


Never tear us apart

by dizzyingly_dreamy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Peter Parker, Cheesy Tender Smut, Don't Like Don't Read, Fairy AU, Fairy Tale Style, Fluff, Fucked-up society, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don't actually hate him, I needed him to be mean so I could further the plot, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Just read it and it'll make sense, M/M, Magic and Science, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Minor Description of Violence (later on), Minor Violence (later on), My teeth are rotting from the fluff, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, No Beta, Pansexual Tony Stark, Rhodey is an asshole, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sad, Smut, Tony is 22 (and 29), We Die Like Men, i forgot smut, peter is 19, protective may parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26331496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyingly_dreamy/pseuds/dizzyingly_dreamy
Summary: Peter scowled to himself and continued pulling on the massive berry with all his strength, eventually rolling up his sleeves to avoid getting juice in the wool. He knew who those voices belonged to, and he wasn't pleased. Tony Stark, and Rhodey something-or-other. Peter hadn't eavesdropped enough to learn if that was Rhodey's actual name, or just a nickname. But he didn't need much to know who Tony Stark was; everyone knew who Tony Stark was. He was the devilishly handsome and charming sun fairie that was filthy rich and powerful enough that people whispered about the chances of him becoming leader of the sun fairies.Peter hated him. He was textbook narcissistic, self absorbed, egotistical, and didn't know the meaning of hard work. He got everything and everyone he wanted on a silver platter and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it. They had never met, not really, but Peter tried to spend a lot of time down by the bay and, conveniently, so did Tony. Usually, Ned and MJ were with him so that they could tell him to shove off if he was getting on their nerves. Yet here he was, alone with these two fools.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Michelle Jones, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Shuri (brief), Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & James "Rhodey" Rhodes
Comments: 12
Kudos: 77





	Never tear us apart

**Author's Note:**

> hello! :)  
> it has been too long, and for that i am sorry. i have been working tirelessly on this and i hope you enjoy it as much as i did while writing it.  
> criticisms are appreciated in the comments :) or anything else you want to say for that matter. (apologies if there are any mistakes, i don't have a beta so it's just me doing the edits and i type super fast so i'm sorry if there are any spelling errors or anything and also, i INTENTIONALLY spelled fairy like fairie so don't give me crap about that)
> 
> love and kisses! enjoy :)

There are fairies; tiny creatures with wings like the purest diamonds one could ever see. They have taken it upon themselves to bring the Winter, the Spring, the Autumn and the Summer. The wings of those of the frost are a pale ice blue; the wings of those of the flower are a blush pink; the wings of those of the leaf are a cherry crimson and the wings of those of the sun are a golden tangerine. Those traits distinct them apart from the others, and for good reason. Though the four kinds may socialize with the others, they are not permitted to fall in love with any other kind than their own, for their own safety.  
Apart from their wings, they appear to be tiny humans, with hair and clothes and anything else a human could want. Their magic is weak, only strong enough to complete the task of which they were bred into, though occasionally one is born with more magic and power than any other. Those are typically made to be the leaders of their task, and are held responsible for the rest of their kind.  
No human has ever laid eyes on a fairie, and they never will.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
1875, 10:05 am  
"Peter, honey, wake up."  
Peter groaned and muttered something incoherent. His pillow was unbelievably soft and warm, and up until this point, it had been lumpy and hard. His blanket too; when had it gotten to be so heavy and cozy, like a crude imitation of a hug?  
"Peter Benjamin Parker I will call a sun fairie to burn those wings of yours."  
Pillow was back to being hard and lumpy, his blanket once again stiff and irritating to his skin. He pushed himself up with shaky and sleep-locked limbs, refusing to open his eyes just yet. He yawned, once again muttering incoherently, his hands raking through his soft curls of blonde hair. Someone else's hand joined his, likely his aunt attempting to get the curls to behave, but they both knew it was a lost cause. Regardless, they did this every morning and at this point it would be strange not to try.  
"You know, Winter is coming soon. You're going to have to get up on your own." his aunt murmured, her hand slipping from his hair as he blinked at her, ignoring how badly he wanted to stay in bed, no matter how lumpy or scratchy.  
She was a beautiful fairie. Not the prettiest that Peter had ever seen, but she was better looking than most. Peter could see her long, pale blue wings poking out from behind her back, glittering subtly in the soft glow of dawn. Her hair was tied back in a braid today, one that reached down to her hips and was neat in the way that showed how much effort had gone into it. She'd put on makeup today too; her lashes were black, almost dulling the soft brown of her eyes. She smiled at him fondly, and he returned it, albeit sleepy and possibly halfhearted since she threatened to have his wings burned.  
"Winter isn't for another few weeks." Peter retorted, sliding out of bed and forcing his aunt to stand beside him. He yawned again, stretching his arms out above his head, his fingertips brushing the ceiling of their modest home. His wings, a rare sky blue colour, extended out behind him and shivered slightly in the shudder of Peter's muscles as they contracted and relaxed. His aunt sighed kindly, her eyes observing Peter's wings affectionately.  
"Besides," he continued, padding over to his chest of drawers to pull out a thick cream coloured jumper. It wasn't that Peter got cold. He was born into the fairies of the frost; if the cold was an issue, that would mean something else entirely was happening to him. It was simply the fact that he liked the feeling of wool and flannel against his sensitive skin. His aunt had never understood, but did her best to find him some that he liked. "Once Winter does arrive, I'll be doing a lot of work, which means I should get all the rest I can."  
His aunt laughed humourlessly. He shot her a smirk over his shoulder as he pulled on the cream coloured jumper.  
"Nice try busto." she chuckled. "I'm gonna need you to go get some of the berries down by the bay. I'd like to make some preserves today." Peter sighed and smiled to himself, his eyes closed in slight embarrassment and adoration.  
"Just say jam, aunt May." Peter pleaded. May sniffed and he turned to find her examining her nails, as if she were in her twenties and entitled. It was an act, he knew that, but it was nonetheless unbearable. "I'll go down to the bay. But you have to promise that you're going to start calling it jam, otherwise you can go down to the bay and deal with the sun fairies, seeing as they seem to think that the berries belong to them." Peter sighed, and May smiled at him.  
"Thank you Pete."  
"No problem." he waved over his shoulder, tugging on a pair of trousers. He raked his fingers through his hair again and turned to the rest of his room, letting his wings flutter carefully.  
May was staring at him patiently and expectantly. Peter sighed.  
"Right now?"  
"Yes dear." May smiled warmly at him and he waved her off, shaking his head but undeniably smiling himself. "I'll have lunch ready for you when you get back." she called as he strided out of his room and into the rest of their house, leaning down and snatching a pair of his shoes as he headed for the front door.  
Outside, in the thick, mossy woodland forest that he and most of the fairies (of every kind) resided, the sun was glittering from the dew drops sprinkled across every blade of wilting grass, every decaying leaf and flower petal, and a gentle fog was hovering just above the ground. Peter sucked in the crisp Autumn air greedily, happily tasting the sweet flavour of decay.  
Then, he took a step back, and leapt off of the stump where he and May lived, his shimmering wings catching his weight and taking him higher and higher until he was above the trees and the sun was nearly blinding. He let his feet fall onto a branch that was very nearly completely bare, and it sagged under his weight but only slightly.  
It was forest as far as the eye could see. No human towns were anywhere nearby, and even if they were, fairies were protected from human sight. That was something that the fairie King had to ensure, when too many were dying from being seen. Fortunately, that had been long before Peter's time, or even May's, so they had no risk of dying from that.  
Peter let out his breath and let his feet tip him backwards, his weight carrying him down, down, faster and faster, until he extended his wings and stopped falling abruptly, floating tentatively to the mossy ground.  
He loved to fly. May absolutely loathed when he did things like that, but he couldn't help it. He needed to remind himself that despite the fact that he and May weren't as well off as some of the other fairies, there was still space to move and fly and simply be. The world was beautiful, Peter was alive and healthy, May wasn't old enough to be concerned about, and everything was good.  
He jumped into the air and gracefully glided down to the bay, where the berries were plentiful and sweet, and where fairies of the sun liked to loiter, seeing as they were honestly the most self-absorbed fairie kind that existed. The cruelest of the sun fairies tried to touch other fairie kinds. If they touched a frost fairie, wherever they touched would either melt on a weaker fairie, or would burn an imprint on those stronger. If they tried to touch either of the other kinds, they would burn and sear their flesh away.  
Fairies of the sun were notoriously more powerful, which led to their narcissitic traits. Not all of them were complete asses; however, the rest of the fairie kinds were still warned about getting too close, physically and emotionally. If one was to fall in love with another fairie of a different kind, they would have to break it off, never see that person again. It was for their safety, even if they thought they would be able to handle it.  
Autumn would decay spring. Frost would freeze Autumn and Spring. Sun would burn the rest. They were better off staying separated.  
Luckily for Peter, the bay looked completely deserted, so he landed on a fallen leaf near the berry bush and began to hum as he tugged at a berry the size of his head. His humming and the sounds of trickling water were the only things breaking the peaceful silence, and Peter was grateful. He didn't want to deal with any other fairies at the moment. Apart from Ned and MJ, two fellow frost fairies, but they were out doing early training that Peter couldn't afford to sign up for. May had spent weeks apologizing and trying to make up for it until he snapped and told her that he'd rather be here with her anyways. That shut her up fairly quickly, and the matter was put to rest.  
"--odes, you know I can't just leave." a voice drifted down the bay into Peter's ears, shattering the spell of peace and isolation that was so precious to him. He paused in the act of tugging on a second berry to see if he could identify who was speaking.  
"Yea, but you have to. He's treating you like--"  
"Shh! We aren't alone."  
Peter scowled to himself and continued pulling on the massive berry with all his strength, eventually rolling up his sleeves to avoid getting juice in the wool. He knew who those voices belonged to, and he wasn't pleased. Anthony Stark, and Rhodey something-or-other. Peter hadn't eavesdropped enough to learn if that was Rhodey's actual name, or just a nickname. But he didn't need much to know who Tony Stark was; everyone knew who Tony Stark was. He was the devillishly handsome and charming sun fairie that was filthy rich and powerful enough that people whispered about the chances of him becoming leader of the sun fairies.  
Peter hated him. He was textbook narcisisstic, self absorbed, egotistical, and didn't know the meaning of hard work. He got everything and everyone he wanted on a silver platter and he wasn't afraid to flaunt it. They had never met, not really, but Peter tried to spend a lot of time down by the bay and, conveniently, so did Tony. Usually, Ned and MJ were with him so that they could tell him to shove off if he was getting on their nerves. Yet here he was, alone with these two fools.  
But no, they had never spoken, never directly. Frankly, Peter didn't mind. He prefferred it this way. Tony was nothing more than an intolerable sun fairie who needed to get punched in the jaw to learn resilience and perseverance.  
The berry popped off its stem and Peter tumbled backwards, clutching the berry to his chest. He'd been so caught up in bashing Tony Stark in his head that he hadn't realized how hard he'd been pulling. Laughter followed this catastrophe and Peter felt his cheeks flush and anger and humiliation rise in the back of his throat.  
"You alright there Frosty?" Rhodey called down, chuckling. Peter got to his feet and shook off his wings gently, wiping the berry off with his sleeve. He stepped over to where he'd placed the first berry and set it down, grabbing a third.  
"Hey, kid, don't ignore us." Tony warned, tone low and almost dangerous as if it would make Peter talk to him. He didn't answer. Even if it was Tony Stark and his insufferable best friend Rhodey, he wouldn't answer. Being a frost fairie and even starting any kind of friendship with a sun fairie was a bad idea.  
The berry popped off its stem, and Peter was ready this time. He placed the berry down beside the others and reached up for another, when something touched his left arm and he leapt back.  
All he could think was hot hot hot hot and sure enough, when he glanced down at his arm, there was a dark pink handprint covering Peter's forearm. He snapped his gaze assusingly up at the two sun fairies, and he met the stunned and ashamed gaze of Tony Stark. One of his hands was gripping the imprint, as if his cool hands would remove it, get rid of the evidence that he'd been this careless, let a sun fairie get this close.  
"Fuck. Fuck. I'm so sorry." Tony gasped, stepping back, eyes wide. "I didn't think! I wasn't thinking--" Peter glared at him scathingly. Rhodey looked shocked, scared, and even slightly amused. His eyes were uncharacteristically visible against his dark skin since they were so wide, and Peter tore his gaze away from Rhodey, glaring at Tony who looked incredibly guilty and regretful.  
Peter didn't believe it for a second.  
"You--you--" he stammered, so angry and upset that he could barely string two words together. "You think this is funny?! Sneaking up on a frost fairie and touching them without heeding the consequences?!" he shouted, and Tony's face went stony and grim. "Or are you just a sadistic ass who doesn't care? I wasn't answering you because I wanted you to leave me alone! I don't want anything to do with you or your kind! You all think you're so high and mighty with your strength, like you're the only kind that matters!" He broke off, biting the tip of his tongue, his grip on his forearm nearing painful at a dangerous speed.  
"The rest of us matter too! And were you so blind that you couldn't see the colour of my wings? Were you that self absorbed?" he hissed. "Pull your head out of your ass, you dick!" he snarled, and with that, he spun around, grabbed his three berries and took off, flying as quickly as he could, his forearm still tingling from the imprint.  
How could he? How could he not realize, how could he be so self centered that he hadn't even realized what touching Peter would and could do? His friend had even called Peter frosty! It took an impossible lack of mindfulness to pull of that feat and, of course, none other than Tony Stark was the one to do it.  
Idiot! He hadn't been paying attention intentionally! If he had maybe responded, told them to leave him alone, or even deciding to fly off and find another part of the bay to get berries from, this wouldn't have happened. Now he was tainted. Marked by a sun fairie, permanently and surely. Everyone would see the mark and know, they would know that Peter got physically close to a sun fairie, and he would be more outcast than he already was.  
May...he would bring her down with him too. She didn't need this from him. She needed him to be supportive, to find a way to get some income, a way to support themselves that left them with a little spending money. This...this was stupid and idiotic and--  
Peter swerved, barely missing the trunk of a Fir tree by a hair, stopping and simply hovering midair, adrenaline pumping his heart full force. If his arms weren't full of berries, he would tug down his sleeves and hide the mark. Hide the imprint. Hide the evidence. He slowly floated to the ground, his breath coming in fast bursts of emotionally driven gasps.  
As soon as he feet touched the ground, he let the berries fall and he yanked his sleeves down so violently that he had to check for tearing. Then he dropped to his knees and sat on his feet, eyes wide, the shock taking over for the anger and despair. He gingerly pulled his sleeve back up and checked his forearm.  
Still there. Now a reddish hue, not as pink. What was the final result going to be? Would it be as vivid and noticable as it was now? He couldn't say, no one knew; he'd never met anyone who had been touched by a sun fairie. Or, at least, no one who had ever been willing to confess to and admit such a thing.  
He would be an outcast. May would be an outcast. He wouldn't even fit in with his own kind anymore, and neither would she.  
God, where were MJ and Ned when he needed them most? What was he supposed to do? Would the mark fade? Had it ever faded before?  
Peter sniffed, and without much control, he leaned over and pressed his face into his hands, trying to stifle the soft whimpers of crying. Dammit. Just when things were starting to look up for the Parkers, he had to go and screw everything up.  
"Hey...uhm...are you okay?" a tentative voice came softly from behind Peter, and he jumped to his feet, startled, and clapped a hand over his forearm, making sure the mark was covered.  
A young, dark skinned girl was standing awkwardly beside the Fir tree trunk, her arms tense and rigid by her sides. Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. The tip of a blush pink wing was visible by her hip, and Peter thought absently that it was beautiful.  
"Y-yeah. I'm fine." Peter sniffed and he raked his fingers through his hair. The girl glanced around the trees, and once she was satisfied, she took a step closer and thrust out a stick. Peter raised his eyebrows.  
"My name is Shuri." She said, voice strong and confident. Peter hesitated, and she gave the stick a little wiggle. "We can't shake hands, so we'll shake this." she explained in a rush of words, and Peter let his lips pull into a smile as he gently held the stick and shook it.  
"Peter." he added, and he released the stick to pick up his berries. Shuri smiled.  
"Well Peter, why're you crying with three pretty berries beside you?" she asked, stepping closer. Peter looked up in the act of picking up the last berry. His wings fluttered of their own accord and her eyes were drawn to them. "Ooh, they're beautiful! I've never seen such a rich colour on wings!" she cried, and she walked around him to examine his wings.  
"Ah, yeah." he muttered, letting them extend fully so that she could see them. She gasped adoringly and he felt his cheeks heat up again. "My aunt tells me that I got them from my mother...she had the same shade." he said softly, and she moved back in front of him. She was smiling.  
"Your mother must be very proud." she said, and she leaned down, picking up the final berry and holding it out for Peter. He accepted it and smiled a little sadly. "Rich colour means power, and I don't see the rest of the frost fairies with colour like that." she continued, and he licked his lips.  
"I've never felt very powerful if I'm honest." he admitted. "And my mother...she died with my father when I was really little." Shuri looked stricken and guilty.  
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to--"  
"No, don't worry about it." he smiled genuinely. "It was a long time ago. My aunt took me in." Shuri sighed.  
"Yes but you implied that your mother...oh and I..." she broke off, balling her fists. Peter snickered a little bit.  
"Really, don't worry." he repeated. She sighed again, pushing her dreadlocks behind her ears.  
"Can I help you with those?" she asked quietly, gesturing to the berries in his arms. He looked down at them and thought for a moment. "Please?" she added in an even quieter tone. He looked back up at her and shrugged, handing one out to her.  
"Sure. Just follow me, okay?" Shuri's face lit up and she smiled eagerly, nodding. Peter took off into the air and glanced back to see if Shuri was following, and sure enough, she stopped beside him, hovering and smiling happily.  
"How old are you Peter?" Shuri called as they wove in and out of trees, heading in the direction of Peter and May's house at a casual pace. Peter let his eyes fall shut, instinct guiding his movements, a smile curling his lips.  
It was as if the incident with Tony Stark hadn't ever happened.  
"I'm nineteen years old, how about you?" he replied, and soft laughter followed.  
"Eighteen." Shuri giggled. Peter smiled. He dove under a fallen branch and there it was, the stump where he and May lived. "Ohhh, do you live here? It's adorable!" she gasped, as they landed beside the doorway.  
"It's not much..." Peter trailed off, noticing every single repair that needed to be done. Shingles on the roof needed to be replaced, the steps leading up to the front porch needed reinforcement, the flowers outside the kitchen window needed to be watered... "It's home, though. Been here almost all my life." he finished, turning to look at Shuri, who was carefully touching the flowers outside the window. Immediately, they were reinvigorated and full of life.  
"I'm not supposed to do that." Shuri admitted soflty with a sly smile. Peter noticed how pretty she was, and wondered how bad it would be if he wanted to kiss her. "Where did you live before?" she asked, placing her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels, her eyes trasnfixed with Peter's.  
"South of here. Way south." he gestured with one hand vaguely, leaning down to place the berries on his porch beside the one Shuri had brought. He dropped down, sitting on the edge of the stump with his legs hanging over the side. "My parents were scientists apparently. Rare in fairies, I know, but they wanted to explore, so we were always moving. We generally stayed south, but sometimes we'd head East or West." he smiled fondly at the memories of living in the jungle and the desert, the memories of his mother cutting fresh mango and feeding it to Peter.  
"How did they...if you don't mind my asking of course." Shuri asked, dropping down to sit beside Peter. He licked his lips again.  
"I wasn't..." he trailed off. Shuri shook her head and patted the ground beside him.  
"Don't worry. We can talk about something else." She smiled sympathetically and he wondered how she could smile so much and so easily.  
"Peter! I need those--" the front door burst open and May stumbled out, her expression changing from determined to stunned within the blink of an eye. She froze, lips parted, eyes wide. "Hi. You are...?" she asked slowly, and Peter got to his feet.  
"This is Shuri. Shuri, my aunt May." Peter said a little awkwardly. Shuri got to her feet and did a little curtsey in her yellow thigh-length skirt. May smiled and bent her knees in a halfhearted attempt at copying Shuri's gesture. Peter recognized the critical eye of a parental figure sizing someone up, and he tensed a little bit.  
"It's lovely to meet you Miss Parker." Shuri said with a sweet smile. "Peter has told me wonderful things about you and your jam. You'll have to let me try some." May raised her eyebrows and smiled a little wider. Peter almost let out a breath of relief, unbelievably grateful for Shuri's smooth and spot on lie.  
"It's lovely to meet you too, Shuri." May replied in a much sweeter tone, and she gave Peter an impressed glance, which made him smile a little. "Peter, I'd like your help with the jam. Shuri, I'm sorry, but you'll have to come back another time." May said kindly, and she bent down and picked up a berry, handing it to Peter who gave Shuri a gentle smile as she nodded and waved.  
"I'll see you around Peter!" she called as she flew off with her pretty pink wings and her yellow skirt. Peter waved and smiled, a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. He watched as she disappeared behind a tree, and he stood there, smiling to himself.  
Shuri.  
"Peter Benjamin Parker, I let you leave the house for an hour and you bring back a flower fairie who looks at you like you're the sun?!" May cried, grabbing Peter's sleeve and pulling him into the house. Peter gasped and clapped a hand to his forearm, the dread and the fear flooding him and dousing the warmth in his chest. "What--" May began, and Peter quickly pulled his arm out of her grasp, shrugging it off.  
"Scratched it at the bay. Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it." he replied, leaning down to pick up the remaining berries. May gave him a strange look and walked further into the house, and Peter followed her, placing the berries on the counter and smiling reassuringly at his aunt.  
He could keep this a secret. He could do this. It would be perfectly easy, so long as he never saw Tony Stark alone again.  
~ ~ ~ ~  
Peter leaned down and scooped up a handful of water from the stream in the bay, watching as he turned it into a small ball of crystal clear ice. His jeans were rolled up to his calves, and his sleeves of his green jumper were pulled up, though he wore a bandage over the handprint. He crossed his legs and held out the crystal ball for Shuri to see.  
"Beautiful." She whispered, and he smiled up at her. They were only a few centimetres apart, dangerously close, but safe. Her dreadlocks were tied up in a bun at the back of her head, and she wore a raspberry coloured top and a pair of khaki pants, and Peter thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.  
They had been seeing each other for the better part of the last two months, and Peter hadn't seen Tony Stark since the incident. Ned and MJ were due back in the next few days, and he wasn't sure how they would respond to him dating a fairie of the flower. He wasn't sure how anyone would respond to him dating a flower fairie. May had given them her blessing, on the condition that they never, ever touch. Naturally, they agreed. Peter never wanted any harm to come to Shuri, and Shuri was perfectly happy with no contact.  
"Here. Put some water and dirt in your palms. I want to try something." Shuri murmured, voice soft and so so sweet, and Peter obeyed, scooping up a handful of dirt with one hand and some water in the other, mixing the two together. "Okay...I've never done this in someone's hands so...just hold still." she continued and Peter nodded.  
She held her hands just above his, her eyes fell shut, and Peter watched as a single rose bloomed from the dirt in his palms. She opened her eyes and looked at Peter with a soft smile in her eyes.  
"Now, surround it with ice." she gestured around the rose and he created a ice orb around it, and Shuri laughed triumphantly. "Yes! It worked. It worked Peter." she giggled. He grinned at her, placing the orb on the ground in front of them.  
"It did." he whispered, and he turned to look at Shuri who was conveniently looking at him at the same time. He licked his lips and was barely aware of the fact that they were leaning closer and closer until Shuri lurched back, her hand clapped over her mouth. "Oh--Shuri--I'm sorry." Peter gasped, and Shuri stumbled to her feet, accidentally crushing the ice orb.  
"I--I have to go." she stammered, and she took off, flying away faster than he'd ever seen her fly. He got to his feet and made to go after her, when he decided that it wasn't a good idea. He faltered, sighing and sitting back down, fingers playing with the crushed petals of the rose.  
Fuck. He hadn't meant to do that, hadn't meant to scare her off. He hadn't been thinking. He had put her at risk with his neglect to realize what he was doing.  
Idiot. Idiot. How absolutely idiotic could he have been? He cared about Shuri. He really, really cared about Shuri and now he'd screwed it--  
"Frosty."  
Peter gasped softly and clenched his fists. That voice. Two months of avoiding that voice and the person attached to the voice and it couldn't last a little longer. Dammit. He slowly turned around, dread flooding him.  
Sure enough, Tony Stark was standing a few feet away, his hands tucked into a black leather jacket, his brilliantly sunset coloured wings protruding from his back. Peter swallowed and absently reached to touch where Tony's handprint was burned into his arm. Tony looked away and ran his fingers through his dark messy hair, his expression uncomfortable.  
Peter hated him. He hated him so much. He loathed every inch of Tony Stark and his pompous demeanour, his entitled and conceited personality.  
Peter got to his feet and, with one of the rose petals clutched in his hand, he jumped and took off.  
"W-wait!" Tony cried, flying after him. Peter clenched his fists and felt the rose petal crumple in his grip, but he couldn't care less. "I don't even know your name!"  
Peter stopped dead, hovering fifty feet from the ground. He closed his eyes and sighed, trying, trying to be nice. May had taught him better. May had taught him better, but Tony Stark didn't count as everyone. He didn't count when May said be nice to everyone you meet because he wasn't like everyone else. He was so much worse.  
But his name. Tony just wanted his name.  
"What do you care?" Peter growled, turning around to see Tony, hovering six feet away, his face grim and his fists in his leather pockets. His wings, the colour of a flame with a golden shimmer, were a blur of vibrant colour behind him, and Peter hated his wings. He snapped his gaze away from Tony and made a low noise, something between a growl and a sigh.  
"Peter." he finally said, forcing the two syllables out of his throat. He slowly turned back around to look at Tony, who looked mildly surprised and perhaps even pleased. Wonderful, Peter was now jumbled in with the rest of the fairie race that bowed to Tony Stark's charm. Tony's eyes flitted to the bandage on Peter's arm, and Peter tensed.  
He turned around sharply and sped off. He couldn't stand that heat, being close to something so bright and so warm. Tony Stark was the embodiement of the sun and Peter couldn't stand it. He loathed it.  
He needed to stop thinking about how much he hated Tony Stark. It was almost as bad as not hating the man.  
Peter landed on a branch high above the roof of the forest, sliding down onto a single leaf that was browning and almost too fragile to hold his weight. He laid down, letting his eyes fall closed, and he placed his hands behind his head. His wings were pressed between him and the leaf and they acted like a cushion to the rest of his body.  
He'd given Tony Stark his name. He'd tried to kiss Shuri despite their promise to the other. He was dating Shuri which was by all means against the rules. Ned and MJ would be back from training in a little over a week, on the first of December, and he would join them in the task of giving Winter to North America.  
The journey itself only took a few weeks, and after that, the weather took over and sustained the Winter until it was time for Spring. Then the flower fairies would make the same journey and after that the sun fairies and so on and so forth. It was a simple cycle, and Peter had gone out exactly one time. Once you turned 18 you were obligated to go, and Peter was 19 now. His second trip was in less than two weeks and all he could think about was how he'd given Tony Stark his name.  
If MJ and Ned were here--  
But they weren't. And thinking like that was just going to dig him deeper into the hole of I can't do anything right without my best friends here to lecture me. Which wasn't true. He had been perfectly fine up until highschool, when they all met, if not maybe a little clumsy with his words.  
He slid his left hand out from behind his head and held it up in front of him, using his teeth to pull off the bandage. It unravelled and dropped unceremoniously beside him, revealing a flush red handprint on his forearm. He inhaled slowly and traced it with his fingertips, shocked at the contrast of heat between the mark and the rest of his arm.  
He carefully lined up his hand as best as he could and exhaled. A part of him was warm now too. Not nearly as warm as Tony was, but a fraction of that heat, and it belonged to Peter now.  
He let out a scream of frustration, slamming his fist into the leaf.  
Then he was falling. His wings were pinned to his back from the force of the air hitting his back, and opening them wasn't possible. He gasped, grabbing at branches that were whizzing past.  
(No no no how could this be the way it would end? He had made a mistake, forgotten about how fragile the leaf was. His wings had to open, they just had to--)  
"Umph!" Peter grunted, slightly winded. He arched his back and let his lungs take in all the oxegyn they wanted, his eyes wide and his entire back aching.  
"You know," Tony said quietly, steadily flying away from any chance of being seen. "I didn't expect you to come crashing down from the sky." Peter didn't say anything, refusing to hold onto Tony even if it meant that he would feel safer. Tony smelled like cologne, gasoline and a musk that was something else completely.  
He let out a sharp squeak and shoved against Tony's chest, pushing himself out of the brunette's grip.  
Then he was falling. Again.  
"You idiot!" Tony shouted, diving after him. He sped up, grabbing the front of Peter's jumper and stopping his falling. "Your wings need a second before you start trying to get away from me! Fuck, I'm just trying to help!" Tony spat, lowering Peter to the ground and letting him fall a few inches so that he landed on his ass partiularly harshly. Peter groaned, rubbing his tailbone.  
"You are not helping." he growled. He absently brushed the bandages.  
But the bandages weren't there. He inhaled sharply and clapped a hand over the mark.  
"Oh for fucks--" Tony groaned, running his fingers through his hair. He shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing a black tank top underneath that really didn't hide any of his physique. He had broad shoulders, a slim toned stomach and powerful arms, all of which were a very attractive shade of olive skin.  
Ugly. Ugly shade of olive skin.  
"I'm the one who gave you that. I'm not about to shit my pants because I'm seeing it for the second time." Tony snapped, and he tore a strip of cloth from his tank top and leaned down to wrap it around Peter's arm. Peter glared and flinched away. Tony sighed and held it out for him, leaning against the edge of a rock that was unearthed.  
Peter carefully wrapped the strip of Tony's shirt around the mark, tying it securely, ignoring how hot everything was. Tony's heat was radiating off of him in waves, the strip of shirt was leaking almost as much heat because it had been snug up against his stomach only a few seconds ago. It was getting to be unbearable.  
"I just saved your life. The least you could do is speak more than four words." Tony added sharply, and Peter looked at him with narrow eyes.  
"You should have let me fall." he bit out. Tony laughed humourlessly.  
"What, you got a death wish, kid?" he asked and Peter looked away. "You just about crashed into me. Letting you fall would have been murder."  
His wings wouldn't move yet. Why wouldn't they move yet? He wanted to get far, far away from Tony Stark, and they weren't letting him.  
"Are we even yet?" Tony's words broke whatever patience Peter had left and he leapt to his feet.  
"You son of a--no! We are not even yet!" Peter cried. "We will never be even. You did this to me and it's going to be here long after my life ends. There is no way you could ever possibly pay me back for what you've done for me and my family!" Tony got to his feet too, absently tugging down his torn shirt to try and cover his stomach. It wasn't working, and if anything, he was just pissing Peter off more.  
"Got you to say more than five words." Tony muttered, a small smirk curling the corners of his lips. "Look, your parents will probably understand if you just tell them what happened." he quickly amended at the look on Peter's face, and Peter scoffed.  
"I don't have parents." he said pointedly. "And it's not as easy and simple as you're saying it is. We're already..." he trailed off, clenching his fists. Tony didn't say anything. "My aunt raised me." he admitted, unsure of why he was saying these things. Tony's heat became more concentrated and Peter looked over to find him a little closer than he was a second ago.  
"I'm sorry." he said, and Peter almost believed him. Instead, he laughed and stepped back.  
"Convincing." he sneered, and Tony's face fell into a dark glare.  
"You know what, fuck you!" Tony shouted. "All of you, all of the people who think that I'm such an asshole, that all the sun fairies are assholes! That we aren't capable of sincerity or real emotion! We are beings too! We make mistakes like the rest of you, we have tempers like the rest of you, we are the same fucking beings!"  
Peter swallowed, throat dry and sticky. Tony scoffed and turned around, reaching down and grabbing his jacket from the ground.  
"W-wait--" Peter began, but Tony just shook his head and took off. Peter was left, guilt bubbling at the back of his throat, his forearm pulsing with borrowed heat.  
Dammit. He'd treated Tony how he assumed all the sun fairies treated the rest of their kind. He still hated Tony, but there was a sort of underlying...empathy...that went with that too. He hated him but he sympathized. Curse him and his uncontrollably empathy that he'd supposedly inherited from both of his parents.  
He tried his wings. They fluttered, albeit weakly. He took off, flying in the direction he hoped was home.  
~  
Peter stumbled out of his house, yawning and stretching his arms and wings. His mark was wrapped in white bandage, the scrap of Tony's shirt sitting inside in Peter's desk, hidden in a drawer. He was going to throw it out today, just like he was going to throw it out every day for the past week. MJ and Ned were due back the day after tomorrow, and he was incredibly relieved that he was going to have his people back. Tony hadn't left any marks on Peter from catching him, probably because it was through clothing, and not direct contact. He stopped dead, just outside the front door.  
Shuri was sitting prettily on the edge of his stump, wearing a pair of loose jeans and a pink tee shirt. Her dreadlocks were hanging around her face, and she turned ever so carefully to face him. He swallowed and walked over, sitting beside her, making sure there was a few inches of distance.  
"I haven't seen you for a week." Peter murmured, playing with the strings of his sweats. Shuri hummed softly.  
"I'm sorry for that. I needed to think." she finally replied, and Peter didn't say anything for a few moments, staring out at the rest of the forest.  
"I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry." Peter admitted quietly and he turned to see Shuri smiling. She looked at him and nodded.  
"It's okay. I didn't try and stop it." she whispered, and she moved her hand directly beside Peter's, almost touching but not.  
(She's not as warm as Tony is). He clenched his jaw and pushed that thought away, working to keep his face happy and kind.  
"Would you like to go down to the bay? I found a berry bush there the other day, and there's still some that are good enough to eat." Shuri offered, her voice cautious and hopeful. Peter nodded with a fond smile and they took off, flying gracefully through the air.  
When they landed at a different part of the bay, one that wasn't familiar to Peter, Shuri skipped over to a berry bush and plucked two ripe berries for the both of them. She handed one to Peter who smiled and sat down on a rock near the water, quickly accompanied by Shuri who followed suit.  
"Is your Aunt doing okay?" she asked, mouth full of berry, juice dripping from the corners of her mouth. Peter swallowed his own mouthful and nodded.  
"She's out for the day. Something about getting a new kind of berry down south. It's still in the forest, but her friend wanted to take her out." he replied. "He's nice like that." Shuri hummed again.  
"What's his name?"  
"Andrew." Peter muttered, biting into the soft flesh of the berry and slurping up the juice that escaped. Shuri didn't say anything else. "My friends are coming back in a couple of days. I'd love for you to meet them." Shuri grinned happily.  
"What are their names?" she asked excitedly and Peter felt his chest warming up again. Not as warm, not as warm.  
"Ned and MJ. We've known each other since we were all fifteen and completely clueless about the world." he chuckled. "They've been out doing training for the Winter. I'm happy to have them back." Shuri sighed contently.  
"Why weren't you out training with them?" she asked in a soft voice, oblivious to the effect the question had on Peter. He tensed and stopped chewing for a second, before swallowing and shrugging uncomfortably.  
"Timing wasn't right. My aunt needed me to stay home and help out with prepping for the Winter." he lied easily, biting into the berry again. Shuri looked at him, smile faltering, but she quickly smiled again and Peter returned it as best as he could.  
"What's with your arm?"  
Peter froze, smile dead. No. Nobody was supposed to ask about the arm. Nobody was supposed to ask because Peter wasn't supposed to figure out a way to defuse the situation.  
"Nothing. A scratch from a few days ago." He lied again. It was hollow. She knew it was a lie too, because he'd had the bandage on since the day they started dating. Her face fell. She reached over his lap for the bandage and he lunged away instinctively.  
"Peter. Why are you lying to me?" She asked, getting to her feet and a look of betrayal on her face. Peter swallowed and shook his head.  
"It doesn't matter. Don't worry about it." he blurted. Her eyebrows hiked up her forehead.  
"Don't worry about lying to me?" she cried and he got to his feet.  
"No, no, I meant--"  
"You know what, I don't care what you mean." she snapped, and she took off. He groaned and let himself drop to the ground.  
He probably could have told her. She wouldn't have said anything. But the slim chance that she'd look at him like he was disgusting was overwhelming and he couldn't risk it. He couldn't risk being looked at like that by her. He cared too much what she thought. It would destroy him if she looked at him like that.  
A twig snapped and Peter looked up from his hands, or more specifically the bandage hiding his biggest secret. Tony Stark was standing on the other side of the bay, face grim and set, hands deep in his leather jacket that he was wearing the last time Peter saw him. Peter's heart leapt into his throat and he got to his feet just as Tony turned and started to walk away.  
He wasn't flying. It was an invitation to make things right. Peter jumped and flew over the bay, landing in front of Tony with ease, doing all of this without really thinking.  
"Look--" Peter began, suddenly aware that he'd never called Tony by any name ever. What was he supposed to call him? Stark? Tony? Tony stopped walking and raised his eyebrows, expression flat and unimpressed.  
Why was this man everywhere?  
"You aren't an asshole. I thought you were. You aren't. You saved my life and I owe you that." Peter continued, clenching his fists. "I know you make mistakes. I know sun fairies are people too. I'm sorry for...I'm sorry for being what I thought you were." he let out a soft gust of air and Tony relaxed, inhaling and exhaling slowly.  
"I'm an orphan too." he said thickly. "Nobody knows. I mean, they know my parents are never home and haven't been for years, but they don't know they're dead. My father...he was the leader of the sun fairies. So if they have questions or concerns, they bring it up with me and I say I'll tell my father." he broke off, looking away, demenaour uncomfortable. Peter licked his lips, letting his fists relax.  
"So...you're essentially running the sun fairies because no one knows." Peter murmured. Tony nodded, still not looking at Peter. Peter sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Tony looked over, only for a second. "Why are you telling me this?" he asked softly. Tony snorted and finally looked over at Peter, eyes showing more emotion than Peter had ever seen in the last few times he'd been around Tony Stark.  
(Sadness. Trust. Vulnerability.)  
He trusted Peter more than he trusted any of his friends. Peter's eyes widened and his lips parted, and Tony smiled sadly. Smiled. Not smirked. Smiled.  
"I'm not a sun fairie. You trust me because I'm a frost fairie and...I don't expect anything from you." Peter murmured. "I don't expect anything from anyone. I'm humble and kind and your kind isn't like me." Tony shook his head.  
"I needed to tell someone. You hate me. But you don't hate me enough to pull the rug beneath my feet." he said softly. "The other things just help." Peter swallowed.  
He should leave. He should leave and never speak to Tony Stark again. He should stop letting Tony open up to him, because though he said that he knew that Peter hated him, he knew that was a lie too. Peter swallowed again. He did hate Tony.  
...didn't he?  
"Okay." Peter said carefully. "I'm not going to say anything." Tony nodded and turned around, walking back towards the bay. Peter wanted to call out, to say wait, but his throat was stuck shut and he couldn't speak.  
(Stop him from walking away.)  
"It's okay that you touched me." Peter said, loud enough that Tony would hear. The brunette stopped walking and turned around. "I mean, it's not, but it is. I...I don't hold it against you." He started walking closer to Peter until he was back where he started.  
"You should." Tony said. "You were right. That's going to be with you for the rest of your life and after." Peter shrugged.  
"It was an accident." he waved his hand dismissively. "And you saved my life. And tore your shirt for me. Which." he paused, confused as to why his cheeks felt warmer. "I'm trying to say we're even." Tony's lips pulled into a mischievous smile and he shook his head.  
"No, not yet. Come on." Tony said, chuckling a bit. "I want to show you something." Peter nodded and followed as Tony jumped into the air, flying in the direction of the place where the sun fairies lived, where Peter had never dared fly before.  
After a few long, silent minutes, Peter stopped flying, hovering, eyes wide and lips parted in awe.  
The houses in the sun fairie district. They were huge and made of gold and marble, with balconies and pools and everything was so bright and warm.  
"Peter!" Tony hissed. "Get down here!" Peter looked down and saw Tony standing on the ground next to a tree trunk, hands by his sides. Peter obeyed, lowering himself to the ground and landing beside Tony who offered him a smile. "Like my house?" he asked in a cocky tone. Peter sniffed.  
"No, it's hideously bright and far too boring." he said, letting his voice show a sliver of how much of a lie it was. "There's no personality." Tony shrugged, unfazed.  
"Can't please everyone." he muttered, turning around and pressing his palms in two oddly specific places on the trunk. The bark began to glow, hot and shimmery like the sun, and Peter gasped as he realized that Tony's hands were suddenly golden and glowing. He'd never seen a sun fairie at work before. Tony shot a smirk over his shoulder and removed his hands. Peter licked his lips and watched as a door appeared in the trunk.  
"Secret door. Very creative." Peter said in a bored tone. Tony just grinned wider and pulled the door open, stepping inside a small room. He beckoned Peter inside, and he followed, acting reluctant.  
The truth was,he would give a lot just to spend a weekend here, accepted by those who lived around this magnificent house. He would never admit that to Tony, or anyone else. He hated Tony. He hated Tony. He really, really, hated Tony.  
The room moved, lurching downwards. Peter gasped and reached out, grasping at Tony's shoulder. Tony laughed kindly and let his hand rest on Peter's waist, his heat seeping through the fabric and into Peter's very being.  
"Y-you're touching me." Peter stammered as they got lower and lower, and Tony removed his hand. "No, I just meant--it's not marking me. It doesn't feel the same." he added, and Tony shrugged as Peter removed his hand from his shoulder.  
"I think it has to be direct contact. Otherwise you just feel the difference in temperature." Tony mumbled as the room came to a stop and the door in front of them opened, revealing what looked like a garage.  
Peter gasped, jaw unhinged and hitting the floor, eyes as wide as saucers. Tony stepped out, shrugging off his leather jacket, revealing a white tank top this time. Peter stumbled out of the small room and stood, frozen in awe.  
Cars, their size, were lined up against one wall. Pieces of technology that Peter had only seen the big people had were scattered across the floor and several workbenches, scrap metal leaning against walls. Peter let out a soft oh and Tony walked back up to him, holding out a circlular item in his palm.  
It was glowing blue, an upside down triangle on the inside of what looked like glass. Peter carefully took it, mindful not to touch Tony, and held it in his hands.  
"It's beautiful." Peter whispered. Tony crossed his arms.  
"It powers a suit that I made, one made of metal that can't be pierced by anything." Tony began passionately, and Peter refused to acknowledge the sudden warmth in his chest at Tony's voice so happy and excited. "It's made out of vibranuim, a metal that's extremely rare to humans, and I managed to get some, enough to made a suit out of it." he continued, and he flipped over his arm, tapping what looked like a watch.  
A portion of the floor slid away, making way for a platform with a red and gold suit on it, made completely out of metal. Peter gasped and walked slowly up to it. Tony was walking beside him and held out his hand for the circular item, and Peter handed it over carefully. Tony popped it into the chest of the suit and the entire thing lit up, whirring with life.  
"It's called an arc reactor, the battery. It basically takes an ejection of these tiny little particles called electrons from the core, and pushes it out towards the rim, creating an electrical cell that generates a huge amount of energy and voltage." Tony explained, pointing out what he meant by gesturing in the air.  
Peter was amazed.  
"It's still in the prototype stages, and it needs a lot of work...but." he broke off and looked at Peter who slowly began to smile at him.  
"It's brilliant." he breathed, and every inch of Tony relaxed, as if it mattered what Peter thought. "But isn't it--"  
"Illegal in fairie kind? Yup." Tony finished his sentence as he walked over and picked up another watch. "This is the one that goes with mine. They can communicate, like what humans have." he walked back over to Peter and held it out. Peter looked at him unsurely, but picked it up anyways.  
The face had the pattern of the night sky with all her stars, and the hands were made out of gold. The glass wasn't really glass, but diamond or crystal. The band was made out of leather, leather that Peter had never seen before. Peter thought it was beautiful.  
"Try it on." Tony urged, and Peter shook his head. "Oh, humour me." Peter looked down at the face of the watch nervously and carefully strapped it around his wrist. The face lit up, the hands and the starry sky gone and replaced with a digital image of a smiley face, and then it went away.  
"It...it's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it." Peter murmured. Tony grinned and Peter was a little shocked to see that he wasn't being funny, or insincere.This was a real reaction.  
Peter's chest was going to burst. The heat inside of it was too much, and it was going to burst like a berry.  
"Keep it." Tony called, walking over to his workbench and dropping down into a chair. Peter gaped at him.  
"I can't!" he cried. Tony shot a smirk up at him and Peter's chest got a little hotter.  
"If you're going to continue falling out of trees, then I think you should keep it." Tony argued, that little smirk still playing his lips. "You can call me for help if you need. Or if you need anything."  
Or if you need anything? Was Tony Stark trying to be friends?  
"I don't want to be your friend." Peter said, trying to sound cold, but the result was a tone that was somewhere between nervous and confused. Tony raised his hands.  
"You don't have to be. That's not what I'm asking." he said, the smirk gone. Peter hummed, suspicious, and looked down at the watch.  
"I don't know how to use it." Peter said quietly, and Tony smiled again. He stood up and walked over, and began to show Peter how to use it. Peter, who was surprisingly good at remembering things, locked down every tiny thing that he could do.  
They ended up spending most of the day inside Tony's hidden garage, trying out the watches to see what they could do, and adding things they thought they'd need. Peter learned very quickly that Tony was extremely intelligent and that he himself wasn't that far behind him. Peter helped him create new pieces of tech, helped him solve problems, and suddenly Peter was aware of how much he didn't hate Tony Stark.  
His chest wasn't going to burst. It was going to keep getting bigger and bigger to adapt to Tony's neverending heat.  
Peter looked down at his new watch at some point after several hours had passed, and he gasped, leaping to his feet.  
"I have to go." he blurted, and he ran for the small room, which Tony explained was an elevator. Tony straightened up and watched him leave, a strange look on his face.  
The door closed, and Peter was now looking at the inside of the elevator. His chest shrank, going back to its regular cold self. It was a sad feeling, and Peter didn't know what to make of it.  
May was going to be home in ten minutes and if he wasn't there when she got home, she would have questions. Questions he wouldn't be able to answer because he was awful at lying to May, unless he had to.  
He pulled his sleeve over the watch and darted out into the forest as soon as the door opened again, taking off and flying back home. Despite his chest being cold again, he felt lighter than he'd ever felt in his entire life.  
He didn't think about what that could mean.  
~  
Peter stayed away from any possibility of seeing Tony for the few days he had before MJ and Ned were coming home. He stayed away from the bay and any place that was remotely close to it. He knew Tony was smart enough to stay away from his home, so he really spent his days there. He didn't hear from Shuri either, but that didn't surprise him. She had gone silent for a week last time.  
The watch never lit up, and Peter never had the courage to make it. He wasn't completely sure why he needed courage to do that, but he didn't try and figure it out. All he knew was that it was better in the long run if he kept his distance.  
He didn't dream when he slept, and he didn't sleep much. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Tony had told him a secret no one else knew and no one else could know. He was thinking about Tony's garage, his suit, the arc reactor, the way they had built things together so seamlessly that it scared Peter.  
He couldn't stop thinking about Tony Stark and the secrets that had followed meeting him.  
"Honey, get up!" May shouted from the kitchen, and Peter rolled over. He hadn't been sleeping. He lifted his left arm and held it in front of him as he sat up. The watch was right beside the bandage, and he sighed as he looked into the starry face. He had hidden it from everyone he had seen, which was a grand total of one person, his aunt. He planned on hiding it from MJ and Ned and Shuri, if she ever spoke to him again.  
He would have to tell MJ and Ned that they were dating. Or, had been. How could he have forgotten about telling them? He was supposed to figure out how he was going to tell them, but he didn't, because he'd been thinking about Tony.  
He slid out of bed, put on his cream coloured jumper, and tugged on some jeans. He made sure the watch was hidden, and he shuffled out of his bedroom, following the smell of hot cereal.  
(He still hadn't thrown out the scrap of Tony's shirt.)  
MJ and Ned were sitting at their table, smiling up at him and smelling of snow. Peter made a happy noise and smiled at them, leaning over to hug the both of them. They squeezed him and he sat beside them, his cheeks beginning to hurt from how wide he was smiling.  
"Hey Parker. You miss us?" MJ asked with her signature sly grin. Peter nodded, yawning, and accepting the bowl of breakfast that May handed him, spooning some into his mouth.  
"Training was bizzare man." Ned began, and Peter looked at him with his eyebrows raised. MJ eyed Ned as she ate her own serving of hot cereal. "We're going to have to--ow!"  
Peter paused in the act of spooning more cereal into his mouth to look at MJ and Ned, who were glaring each other down. Had MJ kicked Ned under the table or something...? Were they keeping something from him?  
"What's going on?" he asked, suddenly losing his appetite. They never kept anything from him. (He was one to be remembering that. The mark on his arm. His unlikely and forbidden friendship with Tony Stark. His girlfriend Shuri who was a flower fairie and maybe not even his girlfriend anymore.) MJ looked at him mournfully and May slid a hand onto his shoulder.  
"Sweetie..." she began, and Peter stood up quickly, almost knocking over his chair, lurching out of May's touch.  
"Don't. Just tell me what's going on. I don't need coddling." he said firmly, and Ned sighed, looking down at his hands. MJ looked away and May stood in front of Peter.  
"If you didn't go to training, you don't get to go on the journey." she said softly and his stomach dropped into his feet. "We could barely afford it last year and now...we just couldn't honey." she continued, and Peter shook his head.  
"You knew." Peter said to May. "You knew I wouldn't be able to go if I didn't go to training." May's eyes were wet and she nodded slowly. "I could have worked! We could have saved up the money! Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, and she covered her mouth with her hand.  
"She wanted you to live your life, to have fun and not worry." MJ interjected in a quiet voice and Peter closed his eyes, balling his fists.  
"Good lot it's doing me now. I get to sit back and do nothing all Winter!" he cried, and he turned and pushed his way out the front door, taking off as soon as he was outside.  
"Peter!" Ned shouted and Peter clenched his jaw.  
"Don't follow me." he called back, and he took off at a tremendous speed.  
Perhaps he was being petulant. Perhaps he should have been a little more understanding. This had to be hard on all of them, especially May, that Peter couldn't go and do what he was born to do, what his very reason being alive was. But they hadn't told him. They hadn't mentioned that small detail to him, one that could have been fixed if he had taken up a job and saved up.  
They could have told him.  
He dropped down roughly at the bay and yanked up his sleeve, tapping his watch and activating it. It projected a holographic image and Peter typed a message on the watch.  
(I'm at the bay.)  
He sent it and sighed, pulling his sleeve back down and crossing his legs in the dirt, dipping his fingers into the cold water. Why was his first instinct to message Tony? Why was he looking to Tony for comfort? He should go back and talk to MJ and Ned, fix this with May. He got to his feet and just as he was about to leave, he felt a familiar warmth as his back.  
"Tony." Peter breathed as he turned around.  
There Tony was, standing in his leather jacket and his loose luxury jeans. His jacket was open this time, revealing a graphic tee that had AC/DC printed on it in severe lettering. His wings were as bright as ever, and Peter immediately felt relaxed. Tony smiled a little at him.  
"Didn't think you'd use it." he said quietly. Peter shrugged and walked back down closer to the bay, sitting down beside Tony, who copied his movements.  
"I didn't think I would either." Peter admitted. "But my friends came back and...I didn't go to training." he clenched his jaw and fists. "I can't go on the journey." he let his head fall into his hands and he sighed. "I didn't go to training." he repeated. Tony didn't say anything, and when Peter opened his eyes, the two of them were sitting on lush green grass and the air was warm and comforting. Peter smiled.  
"Did they not tell you about that?" Tony asked and Peter nodded.  
"They knew the whole time. They didn't say anything. I could have gotten a job. I could have saved up." he bit out. "Dammit, I could've gone." Tony sighed and tapped Peter on the shoulder, through his clothing. Peter looked round.  
The ground where Peter was sitting was ice cold and covered in snow. He leapt up.  
"I didn't--" he began, but Tony got to his feet too and stepped into the snow. Where his foot went, the snow melted and grass bloomed. He waved his hand and the snow disappeared and Peter sagged in defeat, sinking to the ground. "I'm supposed to go out there and create Winter. That's my purpose." he muttered, rubbing his eyes that had gone wet. Tony sat down beside him.  
"It's okay." he soothed. "There will always be next year. You can save up for that. And in the meantime, you can hang out with me in my garage okay?" Peter looked up and sniffed, smiling through his unshed tears.  
"I don't think I hate you anymore." he admitted gently and Tony chuckled running his hand through his hair.  
"Good." Tony stood up and reached out for Peter, who looked up at him with a confused look on his face. Tony retraccted his hand. "Sorry. Forgot for a second." he grinned sheepishly and Peter got to his feet and shrugged.  
"Don't worry about it." he said sincerely and something flashed behind Tony's eyes that was too quick to name. The smile became a smirk and he raised one eyebrow at Peter.  
"So, we friends?" he asked teasingly and Peter laughed and nodded, wiping at his eyes again. "You wanna go and fix the situation back home, or you wanna come and fuck around in my garage?" Tony offered, and Peter raised his eyebrows.  
"How'd you know I need to fix anything?" he asked slowly and Tony shrugged.  
"I'm familiar with the whole 'you didn't tell me how dare you' hissy fit and the storming away." he confessed and Peter smiled at the thought of Tony stoming off and having a hissy fit.  
"I should go back. I want to see them before they leave." Peter said regretfully. Tony nodded and flashed his watch at Peter, flying off. Peter smiled and waved as he left, turning and heading back to his home.  
Except that MJ and Ned were standing behind him, eyes wide, expressions stricken. Peter froze.  
"You were hanging out with Tony Stark?!" Ned cried.  
"A sun fairie!?" MJ added.  
Peter winced.  
"I was going to tell you guys..." he trailed off. No he wasn't. He was never going to tell them about Tony Stark because that was his and Tony's secret. MJ and Ned said nothing. "I'm sorry okay? You guys were gone and I met Shuri and Tony and they've been there for me while you two were off training." he said a little bitterly, and MJ raised her eyebrows.  
"Is Shuri another sun fairie?" she asked slowly and he shook his head.  
"She's...a flower fairie. And she's kind of my girlfriend." he said haltingly and both their jaws dropped.  
"You're dating a flower fairie?" Ned demanded. Peter licked his lips.  
"Kind of. We haven't been getting along." he corrected him and Ned groaned along with MJ.  
"Okay but you're friends with Tony Stark?" MJ shouted and Peter winced.  
"Don't yell about it!" Peter snapped, clenching his fists. They flinched. "I don't need everyone knowing about my personal life! And I was going to tell you guys everything!" His friends fell silent and he sighed.  
Then he felt the warmth at his back, but it wasn't the same warmth. It wasn't as kind, as welcoming. It was severe and sharp and Peter turned around to see Rhodey glaring at Peter, hovering above the stream in the middle of the bay.  
"You're the one who's been hanging out with Tones, huh?" he demanded, and Peter nodded slowly, grateful that his friends had moved up to stand beside him. Rhodey dropped to the ground and marched up to Peter, raising a fist. Peter lunged back, avoiding the blow by a few centimetres at most.  
"Hey!" MJ shouted. "Leave him alone!" Rhodey gave her a sharp look and she faltered. They couldn't touch him or they would be burned.  
"Why are you--" Peter began, ducking to avoid another blow. "Why are you doing this!?" he cried, and Rhodey raised his eyebrows.  
"He's my friend. You two aren't allowed to be friends." he threw another punch and swung his foot out to knock Peter over, but Peter leapt up and avoided both. "And all you're doing is taking advantage of him." he growled, flying up to Peter's level.  
"Wha--no! I'm not taking advantage of him! I didn't even want to be his friend until recently!" he cried, lunging to avoid more blows. He was too slow for one of them however, and it landed in his gut, right under his ribs. He grimaced and fell to the ground, landing in Ned's arms. Rhodey landed roughly and headed right for Peter.  
But something slammed into him and knocked him off course.  
"Tony!" Peter cried as the two men began to wrestle, punching and hitting every inch of skin they could, rolling dangerously close to the stream. Rhodey knocked Tony off of him, sending him crashing into the ground a few feet away.  
"You--okay?" he choked out, winded. Peter nodded and Tony offered a small smile as Rhodey landed a blow to his jaw. Tony's head snapped against the ground and he went limp for a split second, and Peter shouted in angry and desperation, unleashing his magic to protect Tony. Ice covered the ground and created an orb around Tony, locking Rhodey's feet in the ice.  
"Stop it! Stop hurting him!" Peter growled, fighting against Ned's restraint. Rhodey growled and melted the ice at his feet, marching up to Peter now that Tony was incapacitated. Ned released Peter and they started backing up, moving quickly away from Rhodey.  
"Get out of his life. Stay away from him. He doesn't know any better." Rhodey snarled, punching Peter in the stomach again after grabbed a handful of his dirty blonde hair and forcing him to stay put. Peter gasped, and Rhodey hit him again.  
Then there was a blow of warmth that was overwhelmingly strong and Rhodey spun around. Tony had shattered the orb of ice and was standing, leaning against a fallen branch, the side of his head and his nose bleeding crimson blood.  
"Get out of here Peter." Tony growled, and Peter didn't move. "Go!" he bellowed, and Peter nodded, stumbling into MJ's arms and allowed her and Ned to carry him away.  
Once they were a ways away, they let him rest against a tree trunk, and he groaned from his bruising.  
'You have to stay away from him." MJ warned and Peter shook his head. "Peter! Don't you realize the trouble you're in? Being friends with someone like him--"  
"He's not any different from us." Peter snapped. "And I'm not just cutting him off because it's a little troublesome." MJ sighed and put her head into her hands. Ned just groaned and leaned against the tree. "You don't know him." he added in a softer voice.  
That was the recognition of the fact that Peter knew Tony. He did. He knew him better than a lot of people, and maybe he didn't know what his favourite food was or what his preffered temperature of water was, he knew him.  
He knew him.  
And he cared about him. And that was the scariest thing that had happened to Peter in a long time.  
"When he screws you over, while I will comfort you, I am never going to stop saying I told you so." MJ murmured and Peter didn't reply.  
He cared about Tony Stark. And Tony Stark was fighting his supposed best friend to protect him.  
"I'm going back." He grunted as he got to his feet. MJ whipped her head upwards and Ned raised his eyebrows. "Do not follow me this time." he ordered, and they both nodded. "I'll come back. Don't tell May anything. Please." he added, and they nodded again.  
Peter took off, unable to feel his bruised stomach, because he cared about Tony Stark.  
~  
He wasn't by the bay.  
Peter swerved around, scanning the stream and the rocks and the trees and every inch of ground around the bay. Where was he? South? Had he retreated home in the time it took MJ and Ned to carry him away and for him to fly back?  
A flash of golden orange and Peter spotted a wing sticking out of the stream. Dread washed over him and he dived down, dropping into the stream and grabbing Tony's arm, pulling him up out of the water. He slid his arms under Tony's armpits and dragging him up onto the bay, resting his head in Peter's lap.  
"Come on, come on." Peter whispered urgently, hands ghosting just above Tony's skin. He didn't know what would happen if he were the one to touch Tony, but he wasn't about to experiment on his face while he was unconscious. Blood was smeared across Tony's forehead, some of it dripping from his hair and into his eyebrow. He slid Tony's head out of his lap and leaned over his face, his ear just above where Tony's lips were parted.  
Nothing. Peter groaned and slammed a fist into the middle of Tony's chest as hard as he could. Tony choked and keeled over, water and vomit spilling from his lips. Peter slid back a few inches and laid out on the ground, breathing hard.  
"Peter..." Tony croaked, pushing himself up to lay beside Peter. Peter rolled his head over and looked at Tony, his heart rate slowing steadily. Tony's hair was dripping and plastered to his forehead, his eyes half lidded and a little red around the edges, but he still managed a smile. "You...came back." he whispered hoarsely.  
"He left you for dead." Peter muttered and Tony coughed shakily, retching and leaning over to spit out more water and bile. Peter propped himself up on his elbows and licked his lips as Tony flopped back over, breathing heavily.  
"Been a long time coming." Tony panted. "He...doesn't agree with some of the things I do." Peter snorted and wrapped his arms around his knees.  
"That doesn't mean he should try and kill you." he mumbled, raking his fingers through his hair. Tony shrugged against the ground, dislodging dirt with his water-slick leather jacket. He reached up and pushed his wet hair out of his face, wincing as his fingers brushed what looked like a deep gash, his fingertips coming away smudged with watery blood.  
"Are you okay?" Tony asked quietly, and Peter laughed.  
"Yes. I'm fine. Just a little bruised." he pressed a tentative hand to his stomach and winced. "You came in like a bullet." he snickered, and he paused after a few moments, face going blank and confused. "Wait...why did you come in like that? Why did you start a fight with him over me? Why did you risk your life...for me?" he asked slowly, turning to face Tony more fully.  
Tony wasn't looking at him.  
"I need to change. And this is going to keep bleeding unless I tend to it." he said firmly. Peter clenched his jaw.  
"Tony--" he began sharply.  
"Not here." he snapped, and he started to get to his feet, but with a groan, he collapsed again. Peter got up first and reached down for him, sure to grip his leather jacket and not his skin. Once they were up, Peter started to fly up into the air, supporting Tony's weight as they made their way to his garage.  
Inside the garage, Tony nearly collapsed again, crashing into one of his workbenches, sending scrap metal and tools flying across the room. Peter helped him remove his leather jacket, throwing it over another bench, and his shirt, letting that fall to the ground in a sopping heap. Peter didn't stare at the expanse of olive skin, slick and wet from the stream and some of the blood from Tony's head injury. He ignored the toned and muscular build of his friend, and the way his throat went dry at the sight of it. He focused instead on the rapidly purpling bruises across his torso, and the gash on his forehead.  
He quickly moved over to the drawer labelled med shit and threw it open, pulling out a first aid kit and a towel. He rushed back to Tony, shoving the med kit beside the bench on a set of metal drawers and took the towel to Tony's torso, gingerly drying his body.  
"Jeans." Tony mumbled, slumping into Peter's touch, even though it was through a towel. His hands slid down to his jeans and popped the button open, trying to shimmy out of them.  
"Tony, stop, let me." Peter urged, wrapping the towel around his shoulders and reaching down to tug his jeans down his hips and his legs, tossing them with the rest of his clothing. Tony hummed and snapped the waistband of his criminally fitted boxer briefs, and Peter hesitated.  
He could do this. Tony needed to get out of his cold wet clothing and that included his underwear. He was his friend. Peter cared about him.  
He reached and carefully tugged Tony's boxers down his thighs, wary not to look at anything and to keep his skin away from Tony's. Tony inhaled slowly and helped Peter by kicking his feet, sending the boxers flying. Peter took the towel from around Tony's neck and started towelling his hair, mindful to be gentle and careful.  
"So tender." Tony murmured, eyes falling closed at the touch. Peter bit the tip of his tongue and didn't reply. "There's..a bed. Somewhere." Tony added, words slurring together slightly. Why were they slurring together like that? Was he exhausted? He had to be. The adrenaline would have made it possible for him to fly here conscious, but not that he was calming down...  
He just needed to rest. Hence mentioning the bed.  
"You're going to have to walk on your own. I can't touch you." Peter said calmly, and Tony's eyes popped open. Peter was momentarily breathless.  
Chocolate brown, flecks of blue and gold, deep as the ocean. How had he never noticed the precise shade and colours of Tony's eyes before? Sure, he'd never been this close, but he could have noticed how beautiful his eyes were.  
"Okay." Tony said steadily, and he carefully jumped down from the bench, nearly falling over, and instead catching himself on Peter. Peter slid his hands into his sleeves and helped Tony as best as he could to the north side of the garage, where, sure enough, a small bed lay, untouched. Peter laid Tony down, throwing the covers out of the way and then tucking them back in.  
"Find the...labelled X." Tony breathed, eyes sliding closed, his lips pressed into his pillow. "Wake me in...an hour." he managed, and then he was out cold.  
Peter stood, panting a little, cheeks hot, mind racing a mile a minute to try and keep up with what was happening. Find something labelled X. Wake Tony in an hour. (The colours of Tony's eyes were a kaleidoscope.)  
Tony's garage was huge. Where was Peter supposed to find something labelled X? There could be thirty different things labelled X with the way Tony's mind wandered. He started stepping towards the nearest set of metal drawers, then stopped. What if he got the wrong one? What if he failed Tony?  
"Where are you?" Peter asked softly, looking around, his anxiety level rising rapidly.  
"I believe he intends for you to retrieve serum X, in the glass case at the back." a voice said from nowhere and everywhere and Peter jumped, hovering in the air, his wings fluttering almost violently. "Pardon me. I am Jarvis, Mr Stark's AI, desgined to help him with his work." Jarvis said in a (soothing?) tone that relaxed Peter slightly, allowing him to lower himself to the ground.  
"He designed an Artificial Intelligence?" Peter mumbled, looking around. He mentally shook himself. "Right. Serum X, glass case." he trudged off towards the specified location and carefully pulled open a glass case, plucking up a syringe labelled Serum X, and tried not to imagine what the bright blue liquid inside did.  
"My name is Peter." Peter called out. "In case you didn't know." He palmed the syringe and walked back over to Tony, who was grumbling amidst his sleep.  
"I am aware. Mr Stark has told me quite a lot about you sir." Jarvis replied, and Peter felt a little foolish at being addressed sir.  
"Just Peter, is fine." he uttered. "And he has?"  
"Yes, Peter."  
"Huh." he looked over at his sleeping companion. His hair was no longer wet, but it was damp and sticking up in strange angles. Peter could feel his heat radiating off of him again, and wondered if the water had sapped him of his energy. "Does his...temperature...have anything to do with his energy and power?" Peter asked curiously.  
"Yes. The colder he gets, the less power he is able to conjure." Jarvis said. "But I do not believe that is intended to keep you away. He is rather fond of you, Peter." Peter let himself smile. Tony was fond of him. Now he was starting to feel exceptionally warm.  
"I believe you should inject him with the serum now." Jarvis added, and Peter went rigid.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"The serum. I believe now would be a good time to inject him with it." Jarvis repeated. Peter licked his lips, staring at the bright blue liquid. "In the center of his chest, would do." Peter groaned, and using the blankets, pushed Tony onto his back. He swallowed hard, and pulled the blankets down to his stomach, aiming the syringe for the center of Tony's chest.  
There was a mass of scar tissue there, bumpy and a little shiny in the lighting. Peter faltered.  
"What is that?" he asked softly. There was no reply from Jarvis, and he sighed, knowing that the AI was most likely programmed not to say anything about it. Instead, Peter slammed the syringe into Tony's chest and injected him with the liquid.  
Tony shouted out, leaping up and out of bed, gasping and bouncing on his heels.  
"Son of a bitch that smarts!" he cried, running his fingers through his hair. Peter watched with apt curiousity and confusion, slowly getting to his feet. Tony spun around, completely naked, a wide grin on his face. "It worked! Fuck, it worked!" Tony pumped his fists into the air, dancing a little on the spot. Peter's cheeks flushed red and he looked up at the roof.  
"You're--" Peter began, "naked." Tony stopped dancing and stared at Peter for a few long seconds, before laughing and darting to the other end of the garage, yanking open a drawer while giggling like a schoolgirl. Peter grinned to himself, turning around and putting a hand over his eyes.  
Dear god this man was going to be the death of him.  
"Sorry there frosty." Tony called, and Peter snorted into his hand. "Did you wait an hour? Before J told you to inject me?" He asked as he walked back over to Peter and dropped onto his bed, now wearing a thin white cotton tank top that was stretched across his broad toned chest and a pair of black sweats. Peter shook his head.  
"Jarvis told me to do it before it was even ten minutes." he said, holding out the syringe. Tony reached over and grabbed it, laying down in the bed with a playful grin on his face. "What does it do?" Peter asked.  
"Ah, it's something I came up with. Heals injuries and gives a little kick, you know?" he flashed Peter with a smirk and Peter nodded, wondering how anyone could come up with a serum that healed injuries instantly. "It's completely experimental. This is a first try." he added, and Peter gaped at him.  
"You had me inject you with an experimental serum that could have side effects you aren't even aware of?!" he cried, and Tony shrugged with a sly smile. Peter sighed and rubbed his face.  
"Awe, don't look like that. Worst that'll happen is that it isn't permanent. I made sure it wouldn't kill me." Tony cooed and Peter gave him a sharp look from between his fingers, eventually slapping his hands against his thighs.  
"Why did you fight Rhodey for me? You could have easily talked him out of it, or stopped him." Peter demanded flatly, and Tony's demeanour changed instantly. The smirk disappeared and the ease that had flavoured Tony's movements was replaced with tension and nerves. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes locked with his hands.  
(His hands had calluses on them. Not the kind that would scratch if they touched Peter's skin, but the kind that would feel rough in the way that most liked.)  
"It was the right thing to do." Tony muttered, not looking at Peter, who snorted.  
"Maybe, but you didn't have to fight him to the point where you stopped breathing." he snapped. "If I hadn't come back, if I hadn't realized, you would have died." Tony looked up at him, a fierce expression in his eyes that Peter had never seen before.  
"Realized what?" he asked, and Peter sighed, running his fingers through his hair almost desperately, as if that movement would hold the answers.  
"I care about you, Tony." he murmured. "I didn't want to. I wanted to keep hating you. It was easier that way. Kept a burden from being rested on my shoulders." Tony stood up and scoffed.  
"Yeah, caring about me is such a burden, right?" he growled. "The worst thing that could happen, right?" Peter got to his feet too, glaring.  
(Tony was taller than him, tall enough that his lips were level with Peter's forehead.)  
"That's not what I meant." Peter retorted. Tony threw his arms up in the air, spinning around so his back was to Peter.  
"I have been inexplicably drawn to you since the day we met." Tony began, and his voice was thick and constricted. "I don't know why, I don't know how, but something has kept me coming back to you. You've pushed me away and said things that were mostly true, but cruel. Parts of myself I didn't want to acknowledge."  
He turned around, and his eyes were glossy. His perfect, deep, rich eyes. Peter was breathless, any ounce of anger or frustration gone from his body, like someone simply took a breath and blew it away.  
"If anyone else had said the things you had said to me, I would have laughed and told them to fuck right off. But you, with those eyes and that face, said those filthy words and they meant something. And I had done the unthinkable to you. I had marked you, made you unique in the worst way." He paused, balling his fists. "And when I tried to say sorry, not even for what I had done..." he trailed off.  
Peter wished he could touch him. He would stand and slid his arms around his waist and hug him.  
"I should hate you, Peter Parker." Tony picked back up, and he looked directly into Peter's eyes. "You should hate me. We shouldn't be anywhere near each other, let alone friends." Peter's tongue darted out to lick his lips.  
"But I've been drawn to you in ways I haven't been drawn to anyone." Tony finished, and he dropped into his chair, pushing his face into his hands. Peter swallowed and stepped closer.  
"I kept the scrap of your shirt you gave me to bandage my arm. I was going to throw it out, every day I said that to myself, but I couldn't." he confessed, and Tony looked up at him. "I trace the mark every day, feeling the warmth in it compared to the rest of my skin. Line my hand up with it. I dream about you. I can't stop it. I wake up, and even if I can't remember it, I know it was about you."  
"Why are you saying this?" Tony asked softly. Peter exhaled sharply and tugged his sleeve up, revealing the bandage, tearing it from his arm. Tony's handprint was there, a fiery pink, and Peter shoved his arm out.  
"Your warmth, your heat, is addicting. I can't get enough of it and even though you gave me some, a tiny fraction, I can't get enough." Peter burst. "I dream of being surrounded in your warmth, wrapped in your arms, and it's all so hot and it's never enough." Tony's eyes widened and he stood, shaking his head.  
"No. I can't. We can't." he said firmly. "If anything was to happen to you--I could kill you. We don't know what would happen if..." he broke himself off and Peter stepped closer again, letting his arm fall to his side.  
"If you could kill me, you would have melted me when you touched me." Peter murmured, and Tony cringed at the idea.  
"This isn't like touching through clothing, Peter. This...this would be so much more heat." he continued. "You don't know what would happen. It could be too much." Peter looked away briefly, balling his fists.  
"I thought I was going to burst with how hot my chest was getting around you. But I kept expanding. I kept adapting." he hissed. "You won't be too much." Tony closed his eyes and faced away from him.  
"If you don't...it's fine. Forget it. I'm glad you're feeling better." Peter broke off and turned around. Tony gave a growl of frustration.  
"Of course I want to!" he cried. "Peter! Peter!" Peter felt Tony's hand wrap around his wrist, through his clothing.  
(Warm and callused.)  
"God, you drive me crazy! I can't go a single day without thinking about you!" Tony groaned, giving Peter a desperate look. Peter didn't move or speak. "But I can't...I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did something to you." Peter looked up at him and slowly, carefully, slid one of his hands onto Tony's hip over his shirt and the waistband of his sweats.  
Tony's eyes went a shade darker, and he licked his lips. Peter, his heart racing, slid a finger under the hem of Tony's shirt and brushed the skin of his waist.  
Tony pressed him against the wall and let his head thunk against the wall, a few centimetres from Peter's. Peter slid more of his hand onto Tony's skin, relishing in how unbelievably hot and smooth Tony's skin was.  
"You'll never be able to go back." Tony managed, his voice breathless and hoarse. Peter nodded.  
"I don't want to."  
Tony pulled his head back up so that he was in front of Peter, his eyes gazing right into Peter's, down into his chest where his heart was beating rapidly, pounding against his ribs. Peter knew he could see every muscle hidden by skin, every bone and organ, every cell, everything that made up Peter.  
He was undressing Peter at the cell level, using his eyes, and he was going to put him back together in a completely new way.  
Tony leaned forward and his hands cupped Peter's jaw, tilting it up slightly. His touch was burning into Peter, making him Tony's, ruining him for anyone else.  
He barely allowed his lips to brush Peter's, not even a chaste kiss, but it was enough. Tony pulled back and let out a breath that sounded relieved, while Peter inhaled with anticipation. He leaned back in, pressing his mouth a little more firmly to Peter's, then pulling back again. Peter looked into Tony's eyes, and he saw the vulnerability and the tentativeness there.  
They kissed again, a little firmer, a little longer. Peter's hands slid up Tony's back, pulling up his shirt, his hands skating over his back. Tony pressed him harder into the wall, one knee between Peter's, his hands digging into Peter's scalp, his mouth ravishing Peter's in ways that no one had ever dared to try.  
His mouth was like an oven. His tongue was like an ember. Peter couldn't get enough. He never wanted to be cold again, not when heat was this blissful.  
Tony slid his hands down to Peter's hips and slid under his thighs, lifting him and wrapping his legs around his waist. Peter made a soft noise into Tony's mouth, too absorbed in how delicious Tony tasted to really care what was happening.  
Then Tony pressed up against his ass and he whimpered, pressing his hips down against Tony's crotch to make sure that he had felt what he'd thought he'd felt. Tony growled into his lips and they dropped, Tony landing on top of Peter, pressing him into the bed beneath them. Peter used his legs to pull Tony even closer into him, if that was possibly.  
Tony sat up, Peter's legs still half around his waist, and reached for the hem of his shirt to tug it off. Once it was discarded, he dove back in, kissing Peter with a desperate ferocity that had Peter weak. Peter's hands slid over Tony's chest, brushing the mass of scar tissue in the center, and pausing there.  
Tony pulled back, panting slightly.  
"The arc reactor. It...it used to be there. Keeping me alive." he stammered, and Peter raised his eyebrows, but didn't ask anything else. Tony leaned back in, pressing his entire body against Peter's, lining them up perfectly. Peter whined softly into Tony's lips, and Tony licked into Peter's mouth hungrily.  
Then Tony's hands were tearing at Peter's jumper, lifting it higher and higher until they had to break for Tony to slide it over Peter's head and toss it away. Tony pressed himself back in, and Peter cried out, hands gripping at Tony's shoulders.  
Fuck he was so hot.  
Tony chuckled into Peter's ear, the sound soft and gentle, and his lips were pressed against a spot just under Peter's ear, suckling tenderly. Peter's breathing hitched as he gripped Tony harder, and then Tony started to bite a little bit and Peter's mind was gone.  
"I don't--" Tony whispered, pulling back, lips swollen and slick, eyes half lidded and very nearly dripping with want. Peter licked his lips, panting softly, unbearably aroused and more so than he'd ever been in his life. "I don't want to fuck you." Tony finally managed, and Peter's heart dropped into his feet.  
Tony didn't want him.  
"No no don't get that look on your face please," Tony groaned, leaning in and kissing Peter slowly and thoroughly. Peter made a soft noise and arched into the kiss, his hands entangling themselves in Tony's short damp hair. "That came out...wrong." he breathed after pulling back a few centimetres, his hot breath tickling Peter's nose.  
"I don't want to just fuck you." Tony swallowed, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair. Peter pulled a confused face but said nothing. Tony laughed breathlessly and shook his head. "You can see how good I am at this." he muttered, and he inhaled slowly.  
It almost sounded like he was nervous.  
"I don't want this to just be this." he tried, and Peter swallowed, his fingertips rubbing small circles into the base of Tony's skull. "I've dated a lot of people and it's all...they've all been the same." Tony sighed and buried his face in the crook of Peter's neck, pressing a kiss there. Peter started to smile as Tony pulled back.  
"You want it to be more." he mumbled and Tony laughed a little and nodded.  
"That's--never really been difficult to say." he breathed, letting his forehead rest against Peter's. Peter hummed and leaned up, kissing Tony clumsily. Tony let his weight rest on Peter, his hands sliding into Peter's hair, giving a small agreeable groan. Tony nipped at Peter's bottom lip, causing Peter to rut his hips up into Tony's.  
"I--I want that too." Peter managed, biting his bottom lip as Tony ground his hips down into Peter, the heat and the friction almost too much. Tony grinned into Peter's jaw, his tongue teasing the sharp edge of Peter's jaw. Then Tony's hands were sliding down Peter's front and tugging on the waistband of his sweats that were still cold and damp.  
"Jesus, why haven't you taken these off?" Tony asked, sitting on his legs and tugging Peter's sweats down his hips. Peter bit his bottom lip and shrugged as his pants were discarded, leaving him in a pair of fitted boxers. "Your skin...it's so cold." Tony murmured, pressing his palms against Peter's hips.  
Peter keened, whining and arching his hips up into Tony's touch shamelessly. Tony slid his hands under Peter's back, dipping down into the waistband of his boxers to brush the top of his ass.  
"So responsive." Tony whispered, and he leaned down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the centre of Peter's chest and trailing softer kisses lower and lower until he couldn't go further and started making his way back up. One of Tony's palms pressed against the hard ridge in Peter's boxers and Peter moaned softly, clutching at the blankets he was laying on.  
"Oh, god you're like every wet dream I've ever had put into one--" Tony choked, leaning down and kissing Peter hungrily. Peter groaned as Tony stroked him slowly through his boxers, teasing him. Peter clumsily pulled at Tony's waistband, unwilling to stop kissing him even for stripping him completely naked.  
"Peter--" Tony muttered between kisses. "How--how far do you--" Peter pulled him down for a heated kiss and wrapped his legs more firmly around Tony's waist, pushing his ass against the hard length jutting out from beneath Tony's sweats. Tony groaned and let his head fall onto Peter's shoulder.  
"Please." Peter breathed, nibbling at Tony's shoulder. Tony nodded, kissing every inch of skin he could reach as he sat up and got to his feet, stumbling away to grab something from his many drawers. Peter propped himself up on his elbows and licked his lips, watching Tony, his sweats slung low on his hips, clinging there.  
"I don't--fuck you're going to be the death of me." Tony growled, biting his lip and staring at Peter, who had innocently started to pull down his boxers. Peter smiled shyly and kicked off his boxers, letting them fall to the ground. Tony licked his lips and tore his eyes away. "I don't have anything protection. But I'm clean." Tony said, tone strained, and Peter shrugged.  
"I've never done anything so I'm good too." he said softly, and Tony walked back over, holding a small bottle in his hand. He leaned over the bed and kissed Peter tenderly, his free hand sliding behind Peter's head.  
"You're perfect." Tony whispered, sliding into the bed alongside Peter, completely naked. Peter inhaled sharply and let Tony move overtop of him, his legs spreading to accomodate Tony's hips. "It's going to be cold, okay?" Tony soothed, and Peter nodded as Tony reached down and something slick and cool pressed against his entrance.  
He sucked in air greedily. (When had he slicked up his fingers?)  
Then Tony was inside of him, pressing deeper and deeper until he couldn't press further, and so he curled the tip of his finger carefully and Peter groaned at being stretched. Tony sloppily kissed him, and Peter happily kissed back, distracted by Tony moving his finger in and out.  
"Ah--" Peter gasped as Tony pressed another finger in, and now Peter was being stretched, the burning sensation was telling him that much. And Tony's fingers were so hot and they were filling Peter up, but not enough. "M-more--" Peter groaned, and Tony inhaled sharply, biting down gently on Peter's collarbone.  
Another finger was added and they curled in a place deep inside of Peter, making him cry out from the pleasure that was bursting through his entire body in waves.  
"Fuck." Tony whispered, kissing Peter's jaw and neck, suckling and nipping certain spots. "Perfect, Peter, you're perfect." Peter moaned as Tony fucked him with his fingers, stretching him and prepping him, barely brushing against that spot.  
"You, please, now--" Peter mumbled incoherently and Tony smiled at him fondly, kissing the tip of his nose.  
"Okay. Remember to breathe okay? I've got you." he whispered. "As soon as it's too much, tell me." Peter nodded, swallowing hard as Tony leaned back and readied himself.  
"T-Tony." Peter stammered, and Tony leaned back down, brushing his nose against Peter's.  
"Yeah?"  
"I never hated you."  
Tony smiled and looked into Peter's eyes, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I know."  
Tony was inside of him, and he was going deeper and deeper and Peter's mouth was open in a silent gasp, Tony's lips whispering soothing phrases against the hollow of his throat. Just when Peter didn't think he was going to be able to take any more, Tony's hips bumped his ass, and he stilled, letting Peter adjust.  
"So...much." Peter managed and Tony smiled tenderly again. Peter loved that smile. He wanted to make Tony smile like that every day going forward.  
"Too much?" Tony asked timidly, and Peter shook his head. Tony brushed his nose against Peter's again. "Humans call this an Eskimo kiss." he said, chuckling a little, and Peter rubbed his nose against Tony's too, grinning.  
"Why is it called that?" he asked quietly, one hand coming up to cup Tony's cheek. Tony hummed, brushing his lips against Peter's.  
"Dunno. I like it though." he replied. "I haven't tried it with anyone else." Peter giggled. Tony kissed his cheeks, once on each side. Then he carefully rolled his hips, earning a soft moan from Peter.  
It was slow and gentle, with an overflow of kisses and soft, affectionate words. When Peter came, he didn't think he'd ever be able to feel like that again, and he breathed out Tony's name over and over again as he rode the aftershocks. Tony came not too far after, whimpering into the crook of Peter's neck and gripping him firmly.  
Nothing was going to be the same, and they welcomed that.  
~  
Peter mumbled and rolled over, pressing his face into Tony's chest, tucking his head under his chin, draping an arm over his waist and curling his fingers around the curve of his body. Tony hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, pulling the blankets further up over their bodies. They had showered before dropping into sleep together, their limbs tangled and their bodies pressed together.  
"I should go home." Peter murmured reluctantly. Tony hummed again, one hand playing with the curls of Peter's hair. "My aunt is probably waiting for me. MJ and Ned..." he trailed off and sat up. Tony yawned and stretched his arms out, flexing his muscles. He blinked at Peter, letting his arms drop back onto the mattress, smacking his lips.  
"If I could have my way, I'd keep you here forever." Tony muttered, voice rough from lack of use. Peter smiled. "Everyone else could come here and visit you. But you'd stay here, with me." he leaned over and pulled Peter underneath of him, kissing all over his face. Peter giggled and kissed Tony with his lips spread into a smile.  
"I'll come back. And if I don't do that," Peter slid out of bed, picking up his boxers and sliding them on. "I'll call you. Maybe I'll call you anyways." he shot a grin over his shoulder.  
But Tony wasn't smiling. His face was stricken with shock and his lips were parted. Peter's smile faltered and he stood, looking at Tony, searching his face for answers.  
"What's wrong?" He asked, leaning over and touching Tony's face. Tony blinked and looked at Peter, subconsciously leaning into his touch, his expression softening slightly.  
"Your wings...they're like fire. I've never seen any like them." he breathed with a slight curve of his lips. Peter went rigid. "Jarvis, mirror." tony called out, and Peter stumbled to his feet.  
A mirror was lowered into the room, directly in front of Peter.  
His wings were indeed like fire, and they were unlike any Peter had ever seen or heard of. They extended out from his back, bright and powerful, the colour rippling over them, as if they were actually made of flames. His skin was a shade darker too, as if he'd spent all day in the sun.  
Tony's handprint was still visible on his arm, more of a red instead of a pink.  
He turned back to his lover, who was looking at him in awe, his lips almost curved in a smile. There was a pale handprint in the center of his chest, above the mass of scar tissue. Tony, who saw Peter's look of wonder, looked down and touched his chest, his almost-smile growing.  
"I...what does this mean?" Peter said under his breath, barely audible. Tony stood, tugging on his sweats, and walked up to Peter, reaching for his hand and lining it up with the mark on his chest. Tony leaned down and rubbed his nose against Peter's.  
"I don't know." he admitted honestly. Peter swallowed, and walked over, his hand sliding from Tony's chest as he reached down for the rest of his clothing.  
"Come with me. We have to tell May. She'll understand. She let me--" Peter cut himself off, eyes widening in horror. "Oh no." he groaned, burying his face in his hands. Tony's hand slid around his waist, pulling him into Tony's chest.  
"What? What's wrong?"  
Peter groaned again and pulled his face out of his hands. "I have a girlfriend. Kind of."  
Tony made an odd choking noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.  
"I'm sorry? Kind of?" he repeated and Peter rolled his eyes.  
"She's a flower fairie. She found me after you...after we first met. We clicked and started dating." he began slowly, choosing his words extremely carefully. "We got into a fight because I wouldn't show her my arm. You saw her leave. Or at least, you saw me after she left. You were across the bay and I flew over and apologized for being an asshole." he offered a small grimace. "I haven't seen her since." Tony snorted.  
"Brilliant job there Parker." he teased, kissing Peter's cheek and reaching down for his own clothing. "Why do you want to tell your Aunt?" he added, and Peter licked his lips.  
"It's better that she hear it from me. Rhodey trying to kill you means that he thinks you're dead...so...what's to stop him from telling everyone the truth about you? Spending time with me...your garage and your fascination with humans..." he trailed off at Tony's wince. "I'm sorry. It's illegal. Everything. I can't have some stranger going to our door and telling her what she should be hearing from me." Tony sighed.  
"He's never seen the garage. I've never shown anyone the interior. I only spoke about it in explicit detail more than once." he muttered, rubbing his forehead, and Peter sighed. "What are we going to do? We can't stay here. The council won't let us stay here. We'll be outcasted, stripped of our powers!" Tony cried, and Peter licked his lips, scratching the back of his neck.  
"I don't know. I don't know what we're going to do." he said sharply, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He paused, standing still, thoughts racing. "We could run. We could tell May and explain everything and then run." he turned to look at Tony, who was looking around his garage looking ill.  
"I would have to leave everything behind." he whispered.  
"You'll have to do that anyways! If we get stripped of our powers, they'll be sure to take everything you ever owned too." Peter retorted. Tony looked at him for a steady second, his eyes breaking, and then he nodded.  
"Okay." he breathed. He inhaled and shook out his hands and his legs. "Okay. We can run. We can do that." he said a little stronger. Peter gave him a sympathetic look and walked up to him, sliding his arms around his torso. "But what if we stayed here? Nobody knows where the garage is, we could stay here, hidden. You would be able to see your Aunt and your friends." Tony added, and Peter pressed his cheek into the cotton of Tony's tank top.  
"They might find us." Peter whispered. "They would take your garage." Tony stepped back.  
"I can't leave it! I can't leave everything behind." he cried, throwing his arms up. Peter's heart sank.  
He knew this was a lot. He knew this was a lot to be doing for something who he'd had sex with once. He knew all of that but...to be hearing what he had expected was nonetheless difficult.  
"You're one of the sun fairies now--we could ask them to hear us out, we could explain." Tony was rambling, looking everywhere except for Peter as he paced quickly. Peter sighed and let his shoulders sag. "I could--I could--" he broke off and dropped into his chair. Peter padded up to him and reached out.  
"I'm sorry, Tony."  
Tony smacked his hand away and stood, eyes dark and livid.  
"This is my life. This is what I have used to cope with the fact that my parents are fucking gone, Peter." he growled. Peter stepped back, chest tightening. He could see the pale fingertips of his mark poking up from underneath his shirt. "If I had just stayed away from you, kept my distance, ignored the goddamn pull, everything would be fine!" he shouted, and Peter's legs hit the bed and he dropped onto it.  
"Tony..." Peter whispered, tears burning the back of his eyes, not quite there but almost.  
"You ruined me! You ruined my life!" Tony roared, and Peter could see that his eyelashes were wet and clumped with unshed tears. He spun around and picked up his chair, launching it in Peter's general direction.  
It crashed next to Peter, breaking into pieces of sharp plastic. Peter didn't so much as blink. Tony's chest was heaving, his eyes alight with fire, and he sat down on the floor.  
"Go." he hissed. "Get out. I never want to see you again."  
Peter stood and walked towards the elevator, silent and in a daze. Tony leapt up and grabbed the nearest object, throwing it right at Peter, who couldn't tear his eyes away from Tony's.  
The object smashed into the elevator door as it shut, protecting Peter.  
Tony's life had been turned upside down with the death of his parents. He maintained the sun fairie society on his shoulders, balancing being their leader and being himself every day. The fact that Peter, a clumsy frost fairie, had made it so that his entire life was being turned upside down again, was a reasonable cause for him to be this angry, this upset.  
Regardless, Peter's chest ached with a pain that he'd never felt before. It felt like there was a hole where his heart was, one that kept sucking and consuming the rest of Peter, slowly turning him into nothing.  
He couldn't go home. He couldn't face May, not when all the trouble he was in had been for nothing. If Tony had still wanted him to be apart of his life, maybe it would have been worth it. But now, Peter had the wings and the skin of a sun fairie and no answer to why. He could barely think as a matter of fact; trying to figure out what was going on with him was impossible at the moment.  
The elevator opened and Peter stepped out, wiping at his eyes. Wet. He was crying? No. He swallowed back the lump in his throat and smacked his cheeks sharply, clenching his jaw and shaking out his limbs.  
He was fine. He was not going to cry over--over some pretentous rich boy who chose objects over Peter. He was Peter Parker, he was made out of strong stuff. His parents...his parents hadn't come home one day and he had been fine. When he was old enough to realize what that meant, what them being dead meant, he didn't remember much of them anyways. All the tears that had needed to be shed had been shed when he was young.  
So no, he was not going to cry over Tony Stark choosing his life over Peter. Because that was a reasonable choice. And Tony was a reasonable person who made a reasonable decision and Peter was fine with that.  
"Well well." a voice said, and Peter looked up and around, stopping dead in his tracks. Rhodey was hovering a few feet off the ground, his arms crossed, his face grim. Peter's face immediately fell into a glare and he balled his fists.  
"You left him for dead." he snarled, and Rhodey dropped to the ground, shrugging.  
"I actually drowned him. Held his head underneath the stream until he stopped kicking and fighting." he explained flatly. "Exhilirating thing, killing." he flashed a wicked grin that never reached his eyes and Peter swallowed hard, pushing against the image of Tony being drowned that was trying to make its way into his mind.  
"You didn't kill him. He's still alive." Peter snapped. "I pulled him out of the river and saved his life." Rhodey raised his eyebrows, and if he was acting shocked he was doing a very good job of it. But his face resumed its nonchalant expression after a few seconds and he shrugged again.  
"I suppose that can be dealt with. Unfortunate, but ammendable." he waved his hand at Peter. "You, on the other hand, have changed since I last saw you. How're your bruises? Gone?" he grinned wickedly again and Peter absently touched his stomach. They were gone. "Transitions can do that, the whole healing thing." he explained, and Peter raised his eyebrows.  
"What are you talking about, transitions?" he demanded and Rhodey looked positively gleeful.  
"Oh your aunt didn't tell you!" he cried with the happiest smile Peter had seen in a long time. "This is wonderful. I had hoped that I would be the one to tell you, but for it to actually happen..." he trailed off, his eyes unfocused, the smile frozen on his lips. Peter clenched his fists.  
"What are you talking about?!" he growled and Rhodey's eyes refocused on Peter, the smile widening.  
"You see, different kinds of fairies can touch each other. But no one was ever able to reproduce, so marrying in your own kind was encouraged but not mandatory. But nineteen years ago, a mixed couple, one frost, one sun, managed to conceive. No one knew exactly what had happened, but everyone was amazed. When the mother gave birth to a frost fairie from her sun womb, everyone assumed that was it." Rhodey immediately dove in, his eyes and hands animated.  
"But then when the child was two, he started to show signs of harnessing both the sun and the frost powers. The parents kept it a secret, except from the mother's sister, who helped raise the child. Then, when the child was six, the council learned of his powers, and took him away from his parents. The mother's sister took him in and raised him, while the parents were exiled to become humans." he gave Peter a gentle smile that was unnerving.  
That was impossible. His parents had died down south and they had both been frost fairies. And Peter didn't have the powers of a sun fairie.  
"Don't believe me? Look at the ground you're walking on." Rhodey gestured downward, and Peter looked down.  
His breath was caught in the back of his throat and he jumped into the air, hovering there. Every inch of ground he had been walking on was sprouting lush green grass as if it were the middle of summer. Impossible. It was impossible.  
"B-but--the mark on my arm!" Peter stammered. "What about people's memories? And my parents are still...they're alive?" Rhodey grinned like a cat looking at a mouse and Peter let himself fall to the ground.  
"They killed themselves a year after becoming human. Police forces found them with their hands clasped and the name Peter written on the wall with an ink pen." Rhodey said casually, and Peter choked, covering his mouth and stumbling back into a tree trunk. "As for people's memories, the council had them wiped. Nobody remembers that you were a hybrid or that your parents were of different kinds. Your aunt was the only one left with the real memories so that she could control you."  
"You son of a bitch!" Peter shouted, tears streaming down his cheeks. Rhodey tsked at him.  
"Language. The mark on your arm is simply the result when the two souls are so perfectly matched that being with anyone else is quite impossible." Rhodey said and Peter choked again.  
Tony never wanted to see him again. He told Peter he ruined his life. (And they were matched.)  
"It's a rare occurance in our kind. The mark never goes away, even if you wanted to take a knife and cut the flesh out." Rhodey continued. Peter closed his eyes and fell to the ground, pushing the heels of his palms into his eyes.  
His parents had committed suicide after being turned human for being able to conceive and giving birth to him. He and Tony were perfectly matched that they had bonded with each other. May hadn't told him anything true about his parents. Tony never wanted to see him again. He was a hybrid.  
"If you're wondering, the reason you were kept a secret is because you're the most powerful out of all of us. You could accidentally kill the whole fairie race if you had the right kind of mental breakdown." Rhodey added and Peter stopped listening.  
He was the most powerful fairie and he could wipe them all out if he wanted. They had kept everything a secret to ensure the safety of the fairie race. (Tony never wanted to see him again.)  
"I need to know where dear ol' Tony is, Peter." Rhodey said softly, leaning down to make himself eye level with Peter. Peter blinked and looked up at him with watery eyes. His cheeks were wet and his chest was hollow and gaping, and he'd never felt this empty and this naked. "Just tell me where he is and I promise to help you."  
"Help...me?" Peter whispered. Rhodey nodded. Peter started to laugh, and then he was laughing harder than he had in a long time. He slowly got to his feet and managed to subside some of the laughter, throwing his arm out and grabbing Rhodey's neck.  
Rhodey gasped, clawing at Peter's arm, trying to pry his fingers away from his neck.  
"Go," Peter hissed, "to hell."  
It felt like turning on a tap. Just a slight push, and all of sudden everything was flooding out of him and into Rhodey. Then the tap was turning itself on, pushing more and more out, filling Rhodey and overflowing out of him, spilling everywhere, into the grass and the trees and the air, and the world went white suddenly, and then there was no more neck to grasp.  
Peter dropped to his knees, panting, his entire throat and mouth dry and sticky. Rhodey's body lay a few feet away, his head gone, blood spurting out of the stub that had been his neck. White bone was sticking out, but it wasn't white for long. Blood poured over it, staining it and the grass that Rhodey was lying on. Wherever the blood was, the grass died.  
The rest of the forest was green and bursting with life. Peter had made it summer.  
He had killed Rhodey.  
He brought his shaking hands up into view. Not a drop of blood on them. Voices could be heard, shouts of alarm and panic, from a ways away. Or was it one voice? Peter absently thought that he should get back to Tony's garage where he could hide, whether or not it was one voice or three.  
He collapsed before he could even begin to move.  
~  
"Peter."  
~  
"Peter wake up!"  
~  
Peter mumbled incoherently, rolling over and pressing his face firmer into his pillow. He slid his hand under his pillow, bunching it up and squishing his cheek into the lumpy mass. Home. It smelled like his vanilla shampoo and May's berry jam from months ago. It smelled like home. He licked his lips and groaned, stretching out his limbs and pressing his entire face into his pillow.  
It smelled like Tony too, and his scent meant safety and warmth and comfort. Gasoline, engine oil, and a musk that was him and inexplicable. Peter hummed and smiled, rolling over and inhaling deeply. The scent was stronger from this direction, and Peter smiled wider into his pillow, too sleepy to open his eyes.  
A warm, callused hand slid over Peter's cheek, slipping into his hair and massaging his scalp gently. Peter made a soft noise and leaned into the touch, curling up into it.  
"Peter, you have to wake up." a low and gentle voice murmured. "I know you're tired, you really used a lot of your energy, but I need you to wake up." Peter groaned and rolled onto his back, stretching his arms out above his head. He opened his eyes, blinking slowly, forcing his eyes to stay open. He turned his head and looked into Tony's deep chocolate brown eyes, the sun catching perfectly through Peter's window that every fleck of blue and every splash of gold was visible.  
He smiled gently and rolled onto his side, facing Tony, who returned the smile.  
"Hey." he murmured. Tony's hand brushed his cheek.  
"They're outside. The council. Your friends. Your aunt. Everyone." he whispered, and Peter's smile faltered. He stretched again and slowly pushed himself up, leaning against the headboard of his bed. "I brought you in through the back a few days ago. You've been asleep ever since." Peter closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again when Tony's thumb brushed his bottom lip.  
"I've been asleep for three days?" Peter mumbled, voice hoarse. Tony nodded and slid onto Peter's bed with him, sitting cross-legged beside him. "But...you..." Peter trailed off, and he rubbed his temples. "I can't...I can't remember." he breathed, and Tony pulled him into his chest, holding him close.  
"It's okay Pete." Tony murmured. "You will. We're going to stay here until you do, okay? You just used a lot of magic and it drained you pretty good." Peter hummed and slid lower down on his bed, tucking his head under Tony's chin and resting on his chest.  
"I'm tired." Peter mumbled, words slurring together as his eyelids became heavier and heavier. Tony pressed his lips to the top of his head.  
"I'll be here."  
~  
Peter moaned and stretched out, pressing his face into the crook of Tony's neck, pushing his hands under Tony's waist and pulling him closer. Tony grumbled inaudibly and shifted slightly, wrapping his arms around Peter.  
"Mmm." Peter groaned. "M'wake." he pushed himself up, sitting up beside Tony. Tony rolled over and nuzzled his face into Peter's hip, mumbling gently. Peter smiled and reached down, running his fingers through Tony's hair.  
His hand froze and his smile froze, fading quickly.  
"Peter?" Tony slurred, sitting up and blinking. "Whas wrong?" Peter ran his fingers through his hair and slid out of bed, stepping over to his window to look outside.  
Tony had been right. May, Ned, MJ, and the council were all outside the house, waiting patiently, hovering just above the ground beside the stump. A few of the council members were sitting on toadstools and fallen branches, talking quietly amongst themselved. May was hovering closest to the stump, her eyes full of tears, MJ's arms around her. MJ and Ned looked grim and tense, and MJ looked like her eyes were starting to tear up. Peter swallowed hard.  
"You remember." Tony muttered, touching Peter's shoulder. Peter nodded. "Look, about what I said--"  
"They're going to kill us, aren't they?" Peter whispered. Tony exhaled gravelly and his hand slid from Peter's shoulder to his waist, resting his chin on his shoulder.  
"I don't know." Tony mumbled. "Probably." Peter inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, turning around and looking away from the window. He reached out for Tony, pulling him closer, so that his forehead was pressed against Peter's, his head tilted down to make up for the difference in height.  
"It's cruel. It's cruel to kill for loving someone." Peter hissed, balling his fists in the hem of Tony's shirt. "We can't--we can't control that! And not acting, restraining and stifling what's already there--it's unnatural!" Tony licked his lips and slid his hands onto Peter's cheeks, rubbing his cheekbones softly.  
"Love?" he repeated quietly, and Peter almost broke into a smile.  
"Yeah. Pretty sure, anyways. Nothing's ever really felt like this." he muttered and Tony smiled sadly, leaning down and rubbing his nose against Peter's.  
"I'm sorry for saying you ruined my life. I didn't mean it." Tony breathed. "I didn't mean it when I said I never wanted to see you again. I want to see you every day for as long as possible...you just make my life better and bright and that's never happened before with anyone." Peter pushed himself onto his toes and brushed his lips against Tony's chastely.  
"I know you didn't mean it." Peter pressed his face into Tony's shoulder. "I wish we'd had more time."  
Tony laughed softly, and it was humourless and grim. "Me too."  
"Make love to me? Before we have to..." Peter asked, trailing off, voice barely above a whisper, and Tony nodded and kissed him gently.  
Then he led Peter back to his bed and laid him out and kissed every inch of his body, mapping it out in his mind. Every angel kiss, every freckle, every scar, nothing went without being touched and seen. He discovered parts of Peter's body that he liked being kissed, or bitten, or squeezed, and he brought Peter so close to the edge that one right move would send him crashing over.  
Then Peter returned the favour, painting a picture in his mind of the hidden places of Tony, the places he let no one else see, and he cherished them. The scars that covered his back from being rough as a young child, or being punished wrongly by his father; the mass of scar tissue on his chest with Peter's pale handprint burned onto it, where his arc reactor supposedly resided years ago; the freckles on his hips and the mole behind his ear that no one saw; Peter loved every inch of Tony and he proved it, he showed Tony just how much he cared.  
Then Tony made love to him and it was slow and sweet and perfect in the most imperfect way, and Peter never wanted it to end.  
He wanted a hundred lifetimes with Tony, or at least with the chance to be with Tony.  
Why did it have to end this way? Peter thought in the back of his mind as he was curled up with Tony under his blankets, the both of them silently enjoying the little time they had left together. Why couldn't we have had a better go at things?  
"It's time." Tony barely whispered, his entire body tensing, after what could have been hours but felt like moments. Peter pressed his face into Tony's chest and shook his head slightly.  
"We should've had more time." he whimpered, voice muffled. Tony slowly sat up and Peter followed. He took Peter's face in his hands and kissed him for a long time, only letting go when they both knew it was time.  
They got dressed in silence, and then they held each other for a little while. It was too much and not enough at the same time, and Peter wanted to scream and cry in frustration, to have a tantrum like he was three years old.  
"I'm going to find you in another life." Tony promised, voice thick and strained. "I'm going to keep searching until I find you." Peter swallowed and found that he couldn't because of the lump in the back of his throat.  
"I'll wait for you." Peter kissed Tony once. "I love you."  
"I love you too."  
They rubbed their noses together, and then they walked outside, hand in hand, awaiting their fate.  
~  
1999, 4:00am  
~  
"Son of a--" Peter growled, tapping his phone angrily. (Why couldn't he just save a picture? Why was that so hard?) He groaned and let his phone slide off his thigh and onto the concrete roof he was sitting on. He laid back against the concrete and tucked his hands under his head.  
His phone, a seriously old Nokia that he'd gotten off of Craig's list (which he'd had to borrow a friend's computer for that), had the worst camera in the history of cameras and the slowest computer inside that Peter had ever seen. He had taken it apart in his apartment that was just as dingy and grimy as the rest of his stuff, and found that there was no way to upgrade the phone without buying an entirely new one.  
Which, face it, wasn't going to happen since every penny he was earning was going straight to rent and food. He didn't even have enough to buy new clothes, or shoes, or anything nice. He lived off the bare essentials and he was decidedly content. There was no use in hating his life, especially when it was going to take a miracle just to turn his life around.  
And being Spider-man wasn't helping either. It helped with his mental and physical health, sure, but it was extremely hard to get enough sleep while being a superhero and working two jobs to earn enough to be able to eat a decent amount. Food vendors around New York were kind to him, whether he was in suit or not, and sometimes he'd get a free meal, which was a rare treat.  
That wasn't to say that people knew who was behind the mask. They didn't. Peter Parker was a dirt poor kid with the mind of a genius who couldn't scrap together enough anything to even start trying to get into University. He wanted to go to MIT, like everyone with his IQ did, but he couldn't, and it was seriously difficult to keep a smile on his face when he walked past Universities and Colleges full of student who had a better go at it than he did.  
May died two years ago. Ben three years before that when Peter was 14 and becoming accustomed to his new powers. His parents when he was four. He couldn't afford to have friends, because friends required time and that was one of the many things he had none of. High school had been even harder, considering the fact that he was homeless after May died when he was seventeen and in his senior year. Social services had tried to track him down, put him in a home, but he just ran.  
He couldn't do that to himself or a family who wanted a son. Evidently, everyone he cared about died in one way or another, before their time. Ben of a gunshot, May of a broken heart. His parents a plane crash. If he went into a new family, which wasn't going to happen emotionally for a long, long time, he was terrified that they would die.  
So, alone it was.  
He picked up his phone and shoved it into his backpack, pulling on his mask and getting to his feet, bouncing a little and stretching. He absently touched his left forearm, where he had a birthmark that looked like a hand. He wanted to stay and watch the stars disappear. He wanted to watch the stars night after night, but people needed his help, and he couldn't leave them hanging.  
He dropped off of the building he'd been seated on (Empire State Building to be exact), and shot a web, catching himself as he swung through the streets, his backpack light and bumping against his shoulderblades. People cheered when they saw him and he waved, smiling even though they couldn't see it.  
There was one thing missing, and Peter wished he knew what it was. It was like a piece of his chest was gone, had never been there in the first place, and it was just a matter of finding it. He assumed it had something to do with love, and dating, but he didn't have time for that.  
He'd just have to live with a piece missing, which was perfectly fine, because he had no idea on what he was missing out on.  
He'd never been in love.  
~  
Someone screamed, and Peter did a mid-air hairpin turn, dropping down into the street, leaving his backpack out of the way. A woman was clutching her purse to her chest, and a man almost twice her size was tugging it away, yanking on her arm and twisting it awkwardly. He ran at the man, shooting webs and jumping up above him, pulling him to the ground.  
"Go ma'am!' Peter cried to the woman as the man started to get back up, and Peter realized that this was going to take a lot more effort than usual. The woman nodded frantically and bolted out of the alley as the man grabbed a hold of Peter's webs and started pulling Peter closer to him. Peter quickly disconnected the webs from his wrists and leapt up, sticking to the wall, just out of reach of the man.  
"You're tiny." the man growled, grinning wolfishly. Peter raised one eyebrow, knowing his mask would show his expression.  
"Everyone says that, and then they're in jail for attempt at robbery." he replied smoothly, and the man chuckled darkly, shrugging off his coat, revealing--  
Oh.  
Peter leapt out of the way as the blast destroyed the part of the wall he'd just been stuck to, smoke billowing out into the sky. Okay, the man wasn't even human. Not completely anyways. His torso was made out of metal and covered with a thin film of skin that was peeling away, revealing the rest of his bionic body.  
Honestly, the man was terrifying, but Peter didn't have room to be scared or even creeped out. He shot webs at the rocket launchers that seemed to be built into the man's arms, clogging them. But his efforts were futile, seeing as the man just launched more rockets and unclogged them. Peter dodged them gracefully, almost floating through the air, wincing as he heard them crash into the buildings surrounding them.  
If anyone, anyone was inside these buildings, Peter wasn't going to be able to sleep for a few nights. Granted, he probably wouldn't sleep at all for a while just from the idea.  
"Tiny, tiny little bug." The man laughed, shooting at Peter as he dodged and dodged. There wasn't any opening. Peter couldn't strike when he was getting shot at like this. He growled at the man and webbed onto one of the rockets that he'd shot, swinging it around and aiming right back at him.  
It exploded against his chest and he stumbled back, and Peter could see the damage. He grinned at the man, and the man glared, now angry. He shot three rockets at once, and Peter collided the two together and swung the third back at the man. It hit him and he was forced onto his back.  
Peter took his chance. He webbed the man down to the ground and pinned him there, looking smug. The man grinned however, and slammed a third fist into the side of Peter's head, sending him flying into the wall.  
(Ow.)  
He leapt back up, pushing through the pain and dizziness, and webbed the man up so much that he was scared he was going to run out of web fluid. The only part of the man not webbed was his face, and he was gritting his teeth up at the world, swearing and promising revenge.  
Peter swung away from the scene and landed on a nearby building, collapsing against a metal box that was probably either electricity or a ventilation fan. He groaned and slid down to the ground and let his head rest against the ventilation fan/electricity box, reaching up to touch his mask.  
A strip of it was gone, torn away. His left eye and part of his forehead and his mouth were visible, and he swore softly, sliding it down off of his head. The inside had a decent coating of blood and he winced, wondering how hard he'd been hit. He reached up and touched the side of his head, crying out in pain.  
Fuck. He was probably going to have to go to a hospital, which he couldn't afford, and couldn't risk. If anyone found out about who he was, he would never have peace again. Everyone would find out where he lived, what he did, where he worked, and nothing would be the same. He didn't need any more change. Not after May's death. He was finished with change.  
"That was impressive." a voice, rich and low like chocolate, said from behind Peter, and if he wasn't on the brink of possibly dying, he would have jumped up and hid his face. "Really, you could give me a run for my money."  
But, as it was, he was having considerable trouble staying conscious. He grunted as a response, and whoever it was came and sat beside him. He turned his head slowly, wincing and straightening up a little bit.  
Tony Stark. It was Tony Stark, in a sharp burgundy suit, his deep brown eyes hiding tiny flecks of blue and gold. Peter licked his lips and wondered why none of the photographers ever got the exact and distinct shade of Tony Stark's eyes in any of their photos. He was sitting cross-legged, and Peter was, for whatever strange reason, mildy amused by seeing Tony Stark sitting like that.  
The strangest thing was that there was something oddly familiar about Tony Stark, even though this was the first time they had ever met.  
"Mr...Stark." Peter managed, and he held out his hand. Tony chuckled softly and shook it. Peter groaned and touched his undamaged temple, rubbing it gently. "Fuck." he swore softly, spitting a mouthful of blood on the side that Tony Stark wasn't sitting. It had either leaked in from his head, or he had much worse injuries he hadn't even noticed.  
His healing factor needed to kick in and pronto.  
"Come on kid. I'll patch you up." Tony murmured, and Peter nodded slowly, before the edges of his sharp vision started to fade in, and then he couldn't see at all.  
The last thing he remembered, was being picked up by Tony Stark, and noting in the back of his mind that he smelled like gasoline, cologne, engine oil, and a musk that inexplicable and all Tony.  
~  
(Peter, wake up.)  
~  
"T-Tony!" Peter shouted, sitting bolt upright, his chest heaving. His hands were gripping his blankets so hard that they were starting to tear, and he found that he couldn't calm down.  
The door to the room, which wasn't his, opened, and in walked Tony Stark, looking worried and confused. Peter felt his cheeks heat up faster than they had since highschool, and he forced himself to relax.  
"I'm s-sorry I don't know where that came from--" Peter began, and Tony shook his head and pulled up a chair beside Peter's bed. Peter realized with sudden horror that it looked like he was in a hospital without his mask and next to Tony Stark--  
"Kid, calm down." Tony ordered, reaching over and touching his wrist. Peter was amazed at how warm Tony was, and he resisted the urge to comment. He licked his lips and buried his face in his hands, bringing his knees up to his chest.  
(His jobs. His suit. His backpack. His indentity. Everything.)  
"You're not in a hospital. No one knows you're here, actually, except for me and my AI." Tony started speaking, his voice low and soothing, and Peter's breathing started to revert to a less erratic pace. "I called in sick for you. Said I was a friend. They didn't know it was me. I have your suit, though I'm not sure you can even call it that, and your bag. You're safe here, okay?"  
Peter slowly put his knees down and revealed his face, looking into Tony's big brown eyes that he so desperately wanted to stare into for the rest of his life.  
His fucking idol was sitting next to him, calming him down.  
He started to giggle. Tony raised his eyebrows, slightly amused.  
"S-sorry." Peter gasped. "It's just--you're you and I'm no one and you're calming me down like it matters--" he laughed, curling over and balling his fists in the effort to stop laughing. Tony licked his lips and scratched at his cheek, which had neatly trimmed stubble in his signature look.  
God Tony Stark was hot. Ten years older than Peter and infamously attractive to everyone, even straight men and gay women. He was perfectly sculpted in ways that made attractive people feel ugly. He made the rest of the human population look like practice, and he was soothing Peter, who was absolutely no one.  
Peter managed to subside his laughter, laying back in his bed with a goofy grin spreading his lips. Tony's lips were curled in the beginning of a smile, and a swell of pride and joy filled Peter's chest. He was making Tony Stark smile, and it was a real smile, not that devillishly handsome smirk he flashed at everyone.  
"You do matter." Tony said gently. "I've been looking for you for a while, Peter."  
(I'm going to find you in another life.)  
Peter's heart skipped a beat and his goofy smile faltered. He quickly recovered and sat up straighter, running his fingers through his hair.  
"I've seen your work as Spider-man, and I've wanted to meet you for a while now." Tony continued, and Peter nodded, slightly unnerved by what he had remembered. Had it come from a dream? Surely it wasn't a memory. He and Tony had just met.  
But...the familiarity of Tony, and the way he could calm Peter down, and his eyes, and the way he smelled...it couldn't all be coincidence, could it?  
"--osty, and--"  
"What?" Peter interrupted sharply. Tony raised a single eyebrow.  
"I said I was going to go get a frosty, and if you wanted one." he repeated slowly. "Surely someone with you rmetabolism needs to eat more than you have been. You're too thin to maintain your amount of strength." Peter swallowed hard.  
Frosty. Frosty. The drink. The slushie. Frosty. Frosty. It was a cold beverage made of sugar and ice.  
"I don't have very much money." Peter admitted quietly, and Tony didn't reply right away. He leaned forward in his chair and sighed, playing with his hair and making it even messier than it was before.  
(I'm going to keep searching until I find you. I'll wait for you. I love you.)  
(I love you too.)  
Peter mentally shook himself. Tony was staring at him, his eyes unfocused and hazy, confusion and recognition dripping from his expression.  
(W-wait! I don't even know your name!)  
(You know, I didn't expect you to come crashing down from the sky.)  
)You idiot! Your wings need a second before you start trying to get away from me! Fuck, I'm just trying to help!)  
Peter ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on it sharply and blinking rapidly and opening his eyes as wide as they could go. What was happening? These felt like memories, but they couldn't be.  
(I have been inexplicably drawn to you since the day we met.)  
(You'll never be able to go back. I don't want to.)  
Peter pressed his hands against his temples and groaned, wishing that everything would stop. His head felt like it was going to explode, his chest felt like it was overheating and going to melt onto the floor, through the bed he was sitting on. His back, particularly between his shoulder blades, ached and throbbed like someone had gouged into him.  
Tony was standing, leaning against the bed, looking stricken with shock, like Peter had just slapped him. He swallowed and licked his lips, running his fingers through his hair and blinking slowly.  
(Humans call this an Eskimo kiss.)  
(You ruined my life!)  
(Get out. I never want to see you again.)  
Peter stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped thinking, and he turned to face Tony, who was looking at him with wide, glossy eyes. Tony stepped closer and reached for Peter's left arm, turning it so he could see the birthmark. He slid his hand over it, lining his fingers up. His breathing hitched and Peter got onto his knees, slowly sliding Tony's shirt up and over his head.  
The arc reactor was glowing a soft, hazy blue, and Peter thought it was beautiful. He placed his hand over it, and sure enough, the pale marks around it that had seemed strange and just like an odd birthmark, matched up with Peter's fingers.  
Peter reached up and cupped Tony's face with his hands, the rough stubble scratching his palms pleasantly. Tony let out a soft sigh and leaned into the touch, covering Peter's hands with his own.  
"Found you." Tony breathed.  
~

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! let me know what you thought :)
> 
> i'll be sure to post something else soon enough! 
> 
> love and kisses :)
> 
> (i could maybe write an epilogue if people wanted that...) >:)


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